


Tension

by ThisBitchintheCorner



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: F/M, kiliel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:26:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 124,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3405551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisBitchintheCorner/pseuds/ThisBitchintheCorner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romance, love and sexual tension abound in this story centered on Kili and Tauriel from The Hobbit.  Developing relationships between other characters such as Fili/Sigrid and Bard/Thranduil. Story continues through after BotFA.  Rating may change to M soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy the changes I've made and the direction I am taking our favorite Hobbit characters. Any comments, critiques and suggestions are most welcome. 
> 
> It is still in process, so please be patient with me.

**Tauriel**

  
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, allowing herself to absorb all that was comforting about the forest; the musky scent of the earth beneath her feet, the rustling of the crisp changing leaves, the warmth of sunlight that gently lit her face as the cool wind playfully teased at her hair and tickled her ears. Such peace had almost made her forget the ever-present threat of darkness that spilled into their boarders. She breathed in deeply again, allowing her thoughts to settle on the task at hand: the spiders. They had been coming more frequently now and while King Thranduil did not see the encroaching filth as a threat, she could not ignore the distressing feeling that a dangerous shadow was on the precipice of engulfing all of Mirkwood.

The spiders were coming from the South and were venturing down from the Grey Mountains into the Kingdom of the Woodland Elves. Never before had they been so bold as to enter into the forest, but now their presence was a daily occurrence and she believed that today would be no different. As Captain of the Guard, it was her responsibility to drive the creatures away and protect the kingdom from outside perils. She knew in her heart that until they were able to kill the spiders where they spawned, more would continue to come and nest closer and closer to their gates.

“The spiders are gathered near the path. They are not alone.” Legolas said in a hushed tone to Hatharal and Nremyn, their elven companions. She could smell and hear them long before her eyes would distinguish their shapes; there were dwarves in the forest. She had seen their kind before many years ago. She remembered climbing high into the trees to watch them as they wandered near the boarders of the forest after the fall of their home under the mountain. Sorrow lay heavy in their eyes and their wails echoed with despair as they cried out in their strange language. King Thranduil would not grant them passage through his kingdom, for he harbored a deep grudge against their king, and refused them aid. She knew well of the feud, but could not understand how Thranduil could easily harden himself against such terrible suffering.

The dwarves were heavily engaged in battle against the spiders when they came upon them. Legolas and Nremyn swiftly and unseen, circled around the larger group of dwarves while Hatharal shot at spiders descending from the canopy of trees. Her eyes grazed over the company of dwarves until they settled on one figure. His hair was black as the night, and the spider webbing still caught in the thick strands twinkled in the light of the sun. The silver reflection shined like the evening stars and the delicate beams of light danced in her eyes. He was greater in stature than the others and he was not nearly as stout or hairy. Her breath caught in her chest when she saw what he carried in his hand: a bow unlike any she had seen. His accuracy with the weapon showcased his tremendous skill and power, and he fought with as much grace and strength as any of her kind. She could not help but allow her eyes to linger on this dwarf as he drew a blade and thwarted the advance of a spider.

Legolas, Nremyn and Hatharal made their presence known as they burst from the trees with ferocious speed and easily dispensed the few remaining spiders. Soon there were more elves emerging from the wood, bows drawn in unison against the dwarves, forcing their surrender. She remained hidden, watching the dark haired dwarf with great intent. The commotion of the surrender recklessly caused him to drop his guard, and he was not aware of the behemoth creeping behind him until the beast was upon him, slamming him to the ground with a forceful thud. His blade fell from his hand upon impact, leaving him defenseless against the spider. He let out a startled cry as he attempted to break free. A voice desperately cried out “Kili” as the archer struggled to reach his weapon. Heaving herself forward, she shot an arrow into the abdomen of another approaching spider then she drove her own knife into its head, ensuring the kill. His voice yelled out to her, “Throw me a dagger! Quick” as the spider loomed over him, ready to strike. “If you think I’m giving you a weapon dwarf, your mistaken.” She said calmly before hurling a knife into the spider’s head. The monster toppled over, no longer a threat to the dwarf. His startled eyes shot up to find the mystery figure from the woods. He was confused and surprised at the sudden appearance of the scarlet haired elf. She turned to meet his gaze. Her green eyes locked with his and for a moment, she felt the earth fall away from her and her ears heard no other sounds besides her own furiously beating heart. The deep brown pools of light, still wide with amazement, reflected his intensity and passion that erupted within her a spark she had not known existed. He looked through her, as if she was merely flame and shadow and yet she was so much more herself than ever before.

“Tauriel, bring him here.” She heard Legolas call to her, but she felt so far away from him, as if he were speaking to her through a dream. Forcing her composure, she led the dwarf towards the others, eyeing his every step with a renewed caution. He stood near his companion with the golden hair, and watched as they whispered to each other. The fair-haired dwarf stood scowling while the archer burst into a grin; all the while never taking his eyes off of her.

Legolas began insulting one of the dwarves now, his lip sneering, turning his face into something ugly as he formed the hateful words. She had never seen him like this in all the years she had known him, and watching his contempt for the dwarves transform him into something hideous turned her stomach. “Gather their weapons. Let King Thranduil deal with this filth. Guard them closely, for they are a treacherous race.” Legolas ordered. The other elves normally looked to her for commands, but all moved quickly at the Prince’s words.

**Kili**

  
The sprawling Kingdom of the Woodland Elves elicited an involuntary gasp from him, if only in admiration of its beauty and grandeur. Long had he heard the story of how King Thranduil turned his back on the dwarves in their hour of great need; how he stood by and did nothing as the dragon smote his home and kin. His Uncle Thorin hated elves above all other manner of beings, and had raised him and Fili to share his opinion. Being captured in the Woodland Realm by the very elves who betrayed his people so many years ago should have elicited anger, but all of his thoughts were consumed by the crimson-haired elf. When their eyes had met in the woods, he felt a curious sensation come over him. He felt as if he were on fire; a fire that consumed all of him so quickly and deeply that he could scarcely breathe. He felt powerless yet so fully alive in that moment, as if there was a great unseen rope binding and pulling them towards each other. The feeling left him both confused and excited.

He turned back to steal a glance at her: she was too engaged in discussion with the ill-tempered silver haired elf to acknowledge his presence. He watched her mouth form the melodious words of her intricate language and her eyes meet those of the silver haired elf. An unfamiliar fury burned through him as he pondered the relationship between the two elves, and he felt his chest tighten as he pictured them together. What chance did he have with her? How could he be so foolish? Suddenly her eyes drifted from the elves’ and into his own, and the tightening he felt in his chest melted and filled him with a warm glow. He winked at her, and for a moment, he thought he saw a hint of a smile appear on her face. Perhaps he had a chance after all.

He felt a shove in his back that could only have come from his older brother; he knew it was meant to draw his attention away from the she-elf. “You need to stop staring.” Fili hissed. “She is an enemy! Do not forget what her kind did to ours, brother.”

“Aye I know.” He growled at Fili. “Besides, you know I do not find elf-maids attractive.” He said as he shrugged, desperately trying to deceive his brother.

“Sure you don’t, that’s why you’ve been grinning like an idiot since you saw her.” Fili mocked as he shook his head. “Mahal Kili, only you.”  
Kili said nothing, but the smile never left his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tauriel**

  
The silence was broken by the trample of boots, the clanging of metal and the cussing of dwarves as they were ushered into their cells. One of her guards plucked a hidden dagger from the fair-haired dwarf before slamming the cell door shut, the dwarves’ face crestfallen over the discovery. She led the dark haired dwarf to a small cell and he entered without resistance.

“Aren’t you going to search me? I could have anything down my trousers.” His baited words shocked her, as she had never been spoken to in such a crude manner.

Before she could stop herself from responding, she heard her own voice echo “Or nothing.” She held his gaze as she shut the door of his cell, her eyes slanted as a cheeky smile broke upon his face. He flustered her stoic demeanor so much so she scarcely knew how to compose herself.

“Why does the Dwarf stare at you, Tauriel?” Legolas said coolly as his eyes bore into her accusingly, his posture overbearing and with no small hint of jealousy.

“Who can say?” She fired back at him. “He is quite tall for a dwarf. Do you not think?” She tried to hide the heat from reaching her face, but knew that she could not deceive her dearest friend. She quickly turned away from him, trying to steady her emotions before they got the better of her.

“Taller than some…but no less ugly.” He retorted as she made her way out of the dungeon towards the Great Hall.

**Kili**

He watched her as she walked away from his cell, still mesmerized by the statuesque beauty with the emerald eyes. He could hear the silver haired elf talking to her, the tone was cold and Kili instantly felt protective towards the lovely elf. Anger swirled in his stomach as he looked up to see those piercing blue eyes belonging to the elf glaring at him. Kili breathed out a low growl in defiance as the elf sneered, then turned his head and walked away. “Go ahead and challenge me,” Kili thought. “I dare you.” It was in that moment that he understood why his Uncle hated elves with such passion.

“Where’s Thorin?” Fili’s voice called out.

“I imagine he’s being taken before King Thranduil. Perhaps the two can settle this misunderstanding peacefully.” Balin, the eternal voice of reason, yelled out above the din.

“Do you believe that Thorin would ever parlay with the elves? King Thranduil no less? Come now lads, we’d better get used to these accommodations. We’re going to be here a while.” Bofur shouted out in his jesting manner.

Kili slumped down on the bench in his cell and leaned his head back against the cool rock. If he was going to be here for a long time, at least he had her to occupy his thoughts. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the rune stone, running his fingers over the letters etched into its surface. He made a promise to return, but he wondered to himself how he could ever go back to the life he had before the quest.

**Tauriel**

She stood for a moment and tried to steady her breathing, calm her emotions and remove all thoughts of him from her mind. She could not allow her King, the one who had taken her in after her parent’s brutal death and raised her alongside his only son, to see her flustered. She turned the corner and presented herself before His Majesty.

“My King, the spiders are coming more frequently…” She began to speak, but was quickly silenced.

“The dwarf.” King Thranduil spoke with such force it froze her where she stood. His eyes burned with an intense anger and his face utterly unreadable.

“My Lord, I…” She was trying not to allow her emotions to betray her. Did he know about her encounter with the dark haired captive in the woods?

“Thorin Oakenshield believes it is his destiny to return to the fallen kingdom of Erebor. He and his kin dare to cross through my kingdom on their journey towards the Lonely Mountain.” As he spoke, she felt her fear turn to confusion at his words. “He seeks to reclaim the horde of gold and treasures long since abandoned by his people. Tell me, Tauriel, how were 13 dwarves able to enter the forest without alerting our Captain of the Guard?” His steal blue eyes bore into her as she felt the full weight of his fury.

“My Lord, we were hunting the spiders when we came upon the dwarves. We knew of their presence and…” Tauriel realized that nothing she could say would shift the King’s wrath from her shoulders, so she bowed her head and waited for his punishment.

“Tonight while we celebrate Mereth Nuin Giliath, you are to stand guard over our captives. You will remain at your post until I see fit to have you relieved.” He commanded.

“Yes my lord.” She breathed out as the disappointment filled her heart.

“I imagine Legolas will not be happy with your absence at the feast.” He stated calmly. “He has grown very fond of you.”

“I assure you my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than a Captain of the Guard.” She replied quite startled by Thranduil’s words.

“Perhaps once he did. But now, I’m not so sure.” The King turned away from her and waited patiently for her reply.

“I do not think you would allow his son to pledge himself to a lowly Sylvan elf.” She stammered quietly, trying not to betray her confusion or distress over the King’s accusation.

“No, you’re right. I would not. But still, he cares for you. Do not give him hope where there is none.”

His words pierced her with a bitter sting. While she understood her place in the kingdom, hearing how little her King thought of her and her station hurt her deeply. It’s true, long had she felt that Legolas was harboring feelings for her, feelings she could not return because she loved him like a brother and nothing more. He was her dearest companion, the one who was always there for her when she needed him. Still, hearing that she would never be, in the eyes of the man who had raised her, considered good enough to truly be part of his family filled her with sadness.

She left the Great Hall and headed towards the room where the weapons confiscated from the dwarves were being held. “Tauriel, we did not expect you. We assumed you would be preparing for Mereth Nuin Giliath.” Hatharal remarked as she entered the room. Nremyn, surprised to see her, leapt to his feet.

“I will not be attending. King Thranduil blames me for the dwarves in the forest and has ordered me to guard the cells for the evening.” She spoke plainly to her friends, not hiding the disappointment in her voice.

“How are the dwarves in our land your fault?” Hatharal interjected. “They are beyond your control. I suppose the King is angry because the dwarf leader refused him the White Gems of Pure Starlight. Those gems are the reason for the feud.” He explained as Nremyn nodded in agreement.

“I care not for gems or old feuds.” Tauriel sighed as she leaned against the table, her eyes searching over the array of strange weapons, noticing one glaring absence. “Where is the bow belonging to the dwarf?” She blurted out, suddenly aware of her boldness.

“Hatharal and I were trying it out, my lady.” Nremyn said with enthusiasm as he produced the bow from behind his back, laying it on the table. “Trying is accurate, as neither of us was able to draw upon it with much success.” Hatharal looked embarrassed at Nremyn’s confession, and lowered his eyes to the floor. “For a small creature, he’s very strong.”

“Quite. Plus Nremyn thinks he’s handsome.” Hatharal teased, causing the other male elf to turn a fierce shade of red.

“I never said that! I said that he’s different from the others. That there is something…” He paused. “about him.” Nremyn stammered, trying desperately to quiet the blush of his cheeks. “Are you so jealous of a dwarf, a’maelamin, that you would think me false?” His voice hushed and his eye twinkled as he caught the gaze of his lover.

“I would never think you false. Besides Melamin, you’re not the one he fancies. Isn’t that right Tauriel?” Hatharal smirked at the striking redhead, watching her eyes widen. “Come now Nremyn, we must prepare ourselves to drink and dance the night away. Fare thee well Tauriel.” Hatharal and Nremyn took their leave, and she bid them goodnight.

Alone in the room, she allowed herself the chance to exhale deeply, to consider the lingering feelings still fresh in her mind over the encounter in the woods. She recalled the name yelled out in the forest: Kili. She dared not say his name aloud, for fear that the feelings that took control over her in the woods would be exposed for all to see; he would leave an indelible stain upon her that she could never remove. No, she decided, she had no feelings or emotions regarding the dwarf; it was a mistake, perhaps a betrayal of her youth and inexperience, nothing more. She forced him from her thoughts and prepared to tend to her guard duty, when out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the bow-his bow- and her heart skipped a beat.

Hesitant, she swallowed hard before allowing her hand to summon the strength to pick it up off the table. It was heavier than her bow and not as large, yet impressive none the less. She ran her hand over the skillfully applied layers of wood and bone, admiring its artful beauty. Her fingers traced over the intricate markings and delicately carved letters, marveling at the craftsmanship. The expertly molded metal grip, cool to the touch, ignited within her a spark of warmth. She found herself flush with heat as visions of him expertly wielding this unique weapon flashed in her mind. “Kili” his name escaped her lips before she could catch herself, and hearing her own voice repeat his name elicited a rare smile. She was embarrassed by the sudden rush of intimacy, but her curiosity would not allow her to discard the bow. She had more questions than answers: how did he come by such a weapon? She needed to know. She swiftly made her way down into the dungeon, carrying with her the dwarven weapon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Kili**

“He offered you a deal then?” Balin called out to his king from his cell in the lower dungeon.

“He did. I told him he could shit on the heads of his ancestors, him and all his kin!” Thorin roared in anger and frustration; his hatred for elves ringing loudly in his booming voice.

“Well then. That was our only hope.” Balin replied quietly, understanding Thorin’s pride would never permit his to conspire with his perceived enemy.

“Not our only hope.” With his eyes searching the dungeon, Thorin allowed himself to hope that his burglar would find a way.

Kili sat in his cell quietly tossing his stone into the air and catching it in his hand. He was unaccustomed to sitting still, and the boredom of it was overwhelming. While his body might have been forced into an uneasy calm, his heart soared whenever he thought about her: how radiantly beautiful she looked bathed in the sunlight and how her eyes shone as brilliantly as any scintillating gem. He had never known the affection of the fairer sex before, but what he felt for this she-elf left his head spinning and his heart thundering.

**Tauriel**

  
She could hear their voices grumbling as she made her way down the winding staircase, deeper into the dungeon and further away from all her kin and the feast. She paused as she heard a powerful, angry voice echoing through the chasm and vibrating throughout her body. Instinctually, she knew the voice belonged to their leader, the rightful dwarf king, Thorin Oakenshield. She held her head high as she passed by his cell, avoiding his gaze as she made her way down the corridor.

As she passed by the dwarves’ cells, she made note of each of them: the tall one with the markings and menacing scowl, the younger one with sweet eyes, the one Legolas insulted and an older one sharing a cell, the one with the long white beard and kindly eyes, the heavy set one with long, thick braids, the one with the silly hat.

She was almost upon his cell, when she heard a voice shout at her: “Aye! That’s Kili’s! How dare you take it?” Turning towards the voice, her eyes met those belonging to the golden haired dwarf. He leapt to his feet and stood defiantly at the cell door, demanding her attention. A slight gasp left her lips as she confronted his ferocity.

“Pardon, Master Dwarf, I mean no offense.” She spoke in the common tongue. “I’ve never seen another bow like this, and it peaks my interest. I merely would like to know more about its origins, nothing more, I promise.” She smiled at the protective dwarf.

Fili studied the crimson haired elf holding his brother’s weapon. Her demeanor was soft and formal, almost apologetic as she explained herself; her words revealing an insecurity he hadn’t expected. Was she flustered about being caught with Kili’s bow? He was equally flustered and for a moment and he struggled to find the words to respond to her declaration.

“Yes, it would be alright.” He stammered and blinked in rapid succession, desperately trying to hide his awkwardness. “Please.” He continued. “Look in on him for me.” He softened his voice and relaxed his shoulders as he spoke. Her eyes lowered and she held her hand to her heart while delivering a small, graceful bow. “I will do so Master Dwarf. I bid you good evening.” She delivered the words with such sincerity it left him confused about her intentions.

**Tauriel and Kili**

She swallowed hard as she approached his cell. He was sitting on the slab of rock tossing something into the air, suddenly stopping when he caught sight of her.  
“The stone in your hand, what is it?” She said firmly.

“It is a talisman. A powerful spell lies upon it, if any but a dwarf reads the runes on this stone, they will be forever cursed!” He said sharply, his eyes meeting hers, as if daring her to make a move. His outburst was so unexpected; she did not know how to respond. It was her turn to stand wide-eyed and confused, unable to speak. “Or not. Depending on whether you believe it in that kind of thing, it’s just a token. A rune stone.” He said as a mischievous smile spread across his face and a sparkle filled his large, gentle brown eyes.

“Did your woman give that to you?” Before she could even consider her words, they fell off her tongue so quickly and she could hardly hide her vulnerability from him.

He laughed loudly at her question, and shook his head back and forth as he declared “No! I mean it was a gift from a woman…but that woman is my mother.” There it was again, that kindly smile that left her once again breathless. “She gave it to me so I’d remember my promise.”

“What promise?” She asked.

“That I would come back to her.” She worries, she thinks I’m reckless.” He said tossing the stone into the air again.

“Are you?” She asked.

“Nah.” He grinned, taking his eyes off the object for an instant, and it dropped onto the ground with a clank. She stopped it with her foot, preventing it from falling down into the deeper levels of the dungeon. She carefully picked up the stone, admiring it in her hand and examining the foreign writing carved into its surface. The stone felt warm in her hand, and the transfer of the heat from his body into her own melted away her normally stoic demeanor. Their eyes met again, lingering a little too long, and she found herself leaning towards the cell door. She held out her hand, offering the stone back to him, and his thick fingers gently glided over hers as he scooped his treasure. The touch was so brief, so delicate, and yet so devastating to her heart.

Tension filled the space between them, as if an inexplicable force were pulling the two of them together, the confusion of it all left her head spinning. His eager voice broke the silence as he caught sight of something on her back. “I see you’re holding something else that belongs to me.” His face erupted into a joyful grin at the sight of his bow.

She reached over her shoulder and lifted the bow from its resting place, holding it out of the dwarf’s reach, his eyes following her every movement. “Oh this belongs to you?” She teased as a playful smile lit up her bright green eyes.

“Yes it’s mine, but you already knew that, didn’t you?” He teased back at her, unflinching.

“I did know that already. Your golden haired companion reminded my thusly on my way down here. I do not think he cares too much for me.”

“Aye, that’s my brother, Fili! Don’t worry too much about him. He’ll warm up to you, I promise.” He beamed up at her, confident in his words.

“So he’s Fili and you’re Kili then.” She couldn’t contain her excitement over saying his name aloud again.

“Ahh! You know my name.” His eyes lit up when he heard his name spill off her delicate lips. “It sounds so grand when you say it, but how did you know?”

“One of your company called to you in the forest.” She replied softly.

“And you remembered? I must have made an impression on you then?” His face lit up with delight as he spoke.

“Quite. You were nearly carried off by a spider. It would be difficult to forget such a sight.” It was her turn to grin triumphantly as her comments caused him to blush deeply.

“Ah yes, that. Well thank Mahal I had you looking out for me then! Otherwise you’d be forced to flirt with Bombur instead of me.” The blush had not yet faded, but his cheeky smile returned with a vengeance.

“I’m not flirting” She stammered. “I am interrogating.” She turned away from him and exhaled, she did not want him to see her so disrupted.

“Interrogating? Well, you’re doing a wonderful job. But before you ask me any questions, allow me to ask one of you, please?” His grin dimmed, but his eyes were still alive with wonder.

“Go on then.” She said quickly.

“Will you tell me your name?” His voice, so quiet and filled with innocence, caused her heart to skip a beat.

She hesitated. “Not until you tell me about this.” She retorted, holding his bow out again.

“It is a very long story. I don’t know if you’d be interested in hearing about my life.” He said softly as his gaze shifted to the ground.

“Please,” She began. “I would like to know and I am on duty here all night, so I have the time.”

He released a deep sigh, and began to tell her about another chance meeting he had many, many years ago.


	4. Chapter 4

**Kili**

“All dwarf children, starting from when they are very young, are trained in the art of combat. Fili was a natural born swordsman; so skilled with the weapon he was able to wield one in each hand. When I was just a small lad, I would watch him practice sparring against our Uncle for hours, wanting to be just like them. Only when it came my turn to learn, nothing came easily to me. I was a disaster- no worse, a disappointment.” The pain in his voice broke upon the quiet of the dungeon cell and she felt it sting her heart. She wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him, but knew it would be unwise.

“Uncle had me apprentice with Dwalin, a very skilled blacksmith he is, hoping that I would be of some use to our people. I watched and learned as best I could, but mostly I tried to keep out of the way. One afternoon, a young man I’d never seen before arrived needing his sword repaired and while he stood waiting, he began restringing his bow. Mind you, I’d seen them before, but never up close. I watched him as he worked, marveling at how it could bend so much yet not split apart. The man saw me and called me over to have a look.” As he spoke, she closed her eyes and listened to his story, trying to imagine the events as he was telling them.

“Come here lad. I won’t hurt you.” The strange man beckoned him over with a smile. Kili, seeing that Dwalin was occupied, crept cautiously over towards the stranger, his eyes wide with curiosity.  
“What’s your name son?” The man asked.

“Kili.” The boy squeaked meekly.

“Hello Kili. I am Argonui. Have you ever seen a bow before?” He asked the small boy.

“I’ve seen them m’lord, but never up close.” Kili replied with a look of great interest in his eyes.

Argonui held the weapon out to the dwarf, “Here,” he said “Try it out.”

Kili’s small fingers grasped the smooth wood as he brought it closer to his body, eager to inspect the large weapon. He ran his hand over the curve and plucked at the taught string, delighting in the vibration and low hum it produced.

“Would you like to learn how to use it?” The man asked and Kili silently nodded. “Come now son, steady your hips and stand with your legs apart. When you hold the bow, keep this arm straight out and your thumb towards the sky. Use your other arm to draw the string back. Here, use this to nock your arrow and this groove right here is where the arrow will rest against the bow. When you draw on it, keep your back straight and pull the string towards your outer cheek, to where it feels comfortable. Don’t get it too close to your face lad, or you’ll get a nasty slash.” Argonui adjusted the young boy’s body to a proper stance before allowing him to use an arrow.

While the bow was much too large for his small frame and the arrow nearly as long as he, Kili was undeterred. The weapon excited him; it felt right in his hands, like he was meant for this.

“Now lad, try to hit that tree over there. Keep your eyes open and remember to breathe while you adjust. When the shot feels right, let it go.” The man stepped back to allow the dwarf some room.  
Kili closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Opening them, he prepared the arrow, drew back with all the strength he could muster, and then released the string. The arrow shot through the air and anchored itself in the intended tree, exactly where he was aiming.

“Well done Kili! That was a good shot! Now, do you think you could hit it again?” Argonui smiled approvingly at the boy and offered him up another arrow.

“I can try.” Kili asked, looking up with those huge brown eyes wide with excitement.

Kili loosed arrow after arrow, and the bark splintered off the tree after each one struck its mark. By now Dwalin had heard the commotion and had ventured outside to witness the young dwarf’s skill. After the final arrow was fired, Kili turned to share his success with his new friend when he saw Dwalin standing with his arms folded, instantly his young face fell.

“I was just trying it Mister Dwalin, I meant no harm.” The boy said softly to the tattooed blacksmith.

“Kili,” Dwalin began. “I think we’ve found your weapon at last.” The older dwarf let out a low chuckle and handed the mended sword over to Argonui. “Thank you sir for the work,” he gestured towards Kili “and for the lesson.”

“He has a talent. With the right sized weapon, he could be great. As good as any elf I imagine.” Argonui collected his spent arrows from the tree and his bow, bid his new young friend a fond farewell and left.

“Mister Dwalin,” Kili stared up at the older dwarf. “Do you think it would be difficult to make a bow?”

“I can’t say I know much about them lad. I suppose my brother, Balin, might have a few books about how to construct one in his library, if you’re interested.” Dwalin said with a smile.

“I am interested. But what do you think Uncle will say? He really hates elves and this is more of an elf weapon.” Kili’s eyes brimmed with sorrow at the thought of disappointing his idol.

“Yes Kili, he hates elves. But he loves you and I’m sure he will be proud no matter what weapon you wield. Come one now lad, let’s see what Balin has in his books.” The older dwarf lifted the boy onto his shoulder and they were off.


	5. Chapter 5

**Kili and Tauriel**

As she listened to Kili tell the story of his first encounter with a bow, she couldn’t help but watch him as he spoke; the way his cheeks dimpled when he smiled and how his eyes twinkled with such excitement that it filled her own heart with joy.

“I learned as much as I could from Balin’s texts, and from there it was a lot of trial and error, but with each new incarnation, I got better.” He was staring up at her with those huge brown eyes, his beauty on full display to her.

“You taught yourself how to shoot from reading texts?” She asked.

“Aye. It’s remarkable what you can learn from books.” He winked at her as he spoke.

“So Dwalin made this for you? It’s beautiful.” She sighed.

“No, I made it. Dwalin gave up ages ago. It took me quite a few attempts to get it the way I wanted it, but I think it turned out alright.” He said humbly.

“You made this?” She could hardly conceal her surprise.

“I based it off the elvish design, but I had to make some modifications seeing as I’m not as tall as your kind, my arms are not as long and my shoulders are, well, wider.” He looked sheepishly at the ground, hoping she wouldn’t notice the red spreading over his face.

“It’s magnificent, Kili. Long have I heard of the craftsmanship of dwarves, but never have my eyes seen anything so ornate.” She realized that she was cradling his bow in her arms, holding it close against her breast. She held it up again, slowly caressing her fingers over the curves and touching the thick string, her eyes large with fascination. He watched her as she examined his work, delighting in her admiration.

“Would you do me a favor?” He began. “Will you keep it safe for me?”

“I will.” She said with a smile.

“Have you tried it yet?” He asked.

“I have not. My companions did, but not with much success I’m afraid. They informed me it takes great strength to draw it back.” She said breathlessly.

“Well at least I have that going for me.” He said with a laugh. “Did that sour faced silver-haired elf have a go? That is something I would very much so like to see. I don’t suppose he approves of you speaking with me.” Remembering the elf’s presence in her life caused him to scowl.

“No, Legolas would prefer not to touch anything made by a dwarf. He is King Thranduil’s son, and he is normally not so sour faced.” She scoffed.

“Oh. So you and he are…” Kili could not help but to show his disappointment on his face. The elf was the prince of The Woodland Realm; surely she was with someone so important and powerful.

“Legolas is my dearest mellon, my closest friend.” She smiled when she thought of the Prince.

“A friend then! You two seem,” He paused, trying not to betray his relief. “Close.”

“Well we grew up together. After my parents were killed, King Thranduil took me in and raised me.” She explained.

“Your parents were killed?” He asked softly.

“Yes, when I was very young. We were returning home from Dale when we were ambushed by an orc pack. They killed everyone.” Her voice trailed and her eyes looked far away as she spoke. “I survived because my mother hid me in the hollow of a tree. Legolas found me cold, scared and crying and brought me home to his father. Thranduil took pity on me and stayed by side during those difficult first few weeks. It must have been a curious thing to see: the Sindarian King doting on a young Sylvian elf.” Lost in the moment, she realized that she had never told anyone this story before and thought perhaps she had revealed too much to the dwarf.

“I am sorry for your loss. I truly am. My father was killed by orcs when I was just a small lad. I don’t’ even remember him.” Kili said sadly. “My Uncle Thorin became like a father to me and Fili. He’s my mother’s brother, so we are his sister’s sons; as close to him as his own children would be, if he had any.”

“You are Thorin’s nephew?” She asked.

“Aye! Sons of Durin we are, Princes of Erebor! Well, Fili is the rightful Prince. I’m just the Heir Apparent, no one special really.” His voice humbled as he spoke.

“I would not say that.” She quickly retorted.

“My brother is the Durin legacy. Fili personifies a proper dwarf: he’s of perfect dwarf stature, he’s hairy absolutely everywhere, he wields respectable dwarven weapons and he never has a shortage of eligible dwarf maids nosing around his chambers. ” Kili spoke of his brother with reverence and no shortage of love and respect. “Fili is the most loyal, the most courageous and the fiercest of all the dwarves. He looks after me, because well, I’m...”

“Reckless?” She said with a smile.

“Perhaps a bit. But I have you around to save me, so now Fili’s free to do as he will.” Kili chuckled. The quiet between them made him aware of the loud noises coming from above. “Sounds like quite a party they’re having up there.”

“It’s Mereth Nuin Giliath, The Feast of Starlight. All light is sacred to the Eldar, but the Wood Elves love best the light of the stars.” She said as she lifted her gaze towards the sky.

“I always thought it is a cold light; remote and far away.” He replied, watching her every move.

“It is memory, precious and pure. Like your promise. I have walked there sometimes beyond the forest and up into the night. I have seen the world fall away and the white light of forever fill the air.” She said breathlessly.

“I saw a fire moon once. It rose over the pass near Dunland, huge, red and gold it was, it filled the sky. We were an escort for some merchants who were trading in silverwork for furs. We took the Greenway south, keeping the Mountain to our left, and there it was: this huge fire moon lighting our path. I wish I could show you the caverns as they lit up with spectacular colors, reflecting off the crystals in the rocks. I’d never seen anything so wondrous and fair in all my life, until today.” His eyes stared into hers as he spoke. She was sitting on the step next to his cell, close enough to touch, and he could hear her gasp at his words. They gazed at each other for a few moments, he lifted his fingers from where they lay on the metal bar and she reached her hand out. Their fingertips met, and gently laced together, the touch was so fragile, sweet and pure.

“My name is Tauriel.” Her voice was just above a whisper.

“Tauriel.” He sighed. “Tauriel. Beautiful.” He murmured in his native tongue. His fingertips brushed softly against hers as he spoke.

Her heart was beating so wildly, she could scarcely catch her breath. The touch of his hand blurred her thoughts; she felt bathed in the warmth of eternal light, aglow with the fire of 10,000 suns. In his eyes, she saw the promise of a life outside the confines of the Woodland Realm, the promise of something more than what anyone in the world could possibly offer to her. She dared not separate herself from him for fear of losing the magic that lay between them; magic that was pulling her closer and closer towards him.

“Tauriel! Father has summoned you to the feast. You no longer have to stay down here with these creatures.” Legolas called to her as he rapidly descended the dungeon stairs. She pulled her hand away, but her eyes remained locked with the dwarf’s, apologizing somehow for the interruption. Standing up, she greeted the prince with a warm smile.

“Thank you, mellonamin.” Her voice revealed a slight tremor but Legolas did not seem to notice, as his eyes were focused on the dwarf.

“Come Tauriel. I wish to dance with you.” Legolas said in the common tongue in order to incite a reaction from the captive. When he spotted Kili’s bow, he recoiled in disgust. “Is this the dwarf’s attempt at an elven weapon? It offends my eyes and I wish it to be destroyed.” His contempt for Kili went beyond his hatred for dwarves; he did not want to vie for Tauriel’s affections with anyone, much less a creature he deemed less worthy.

Kili stood at the cell door and glared up at Legolas, his eyes flashed with a fierce anger and his fists clenched.

“Legolas, come mellon, let us away and celebrate.” Tauriel slipped her arm into that of her dear friend and led him away from Kili’s cell. She glanced at Kili over her shoulder, her eyes reflecting her genuine sweetness as she smiled goodbye.

**Kili**

Kili watched her leave with the elf and tried not to feel disappointment over her absence. He missed her as soon as she disappeared, wishing for just a few more precious moments with the beauty. His heart swelled when he remembered her touch upon his hand and how she looked so deeply into his eyes. “Tauriel.” He murmured quietly to the walls of this cell. In his mind, he knew that they could never be together, that it was impossible. But in his heart, he cared not for confines or feuds, he thought only about the way she made him feel; how he wanted to make her happy and how he wanted to get lost in her eyes forever.

**Tauriel**

She allowed Legolas to lead her up from the dungeon to her personal chamber, where he took his leave of her. As she changed into her formal attire, her head was still swirling with thoughts of his deep brown eyes. She placed his bow atop her bed and allowed herself to steal one last thought of him before she left for the Great Hall. The swell of the crowd should have elicited a feeling of community and pride, but instead being surrounded by her kin made her feel more alone than ever. For the first time, she felt torn between two lives: one that was familiar and safe, the other impossible but filled with something fragile and possibly, love.


	6. Chapter 6

**Kili**

The barrels hit the water with a thud and the rush of cold water shocked him back into reality; they were fleeing the elven dungeon and he was leaving her behind. The swiftly moving water tossed the barrels violently, and it was all Kili could do to keep from drowning. He could see the gate to the open river ahead, freedom was in their grasp. Suddenly the sound of an elf horn pierced the morning air, causing his stomach to drop: the elves had discovered their escape.

His heart sunk as the gate doors slammed shut, trapping them in the once again. The elven guards drew their swords, when a silent arrow split through the air and pierced one of the lithe warriors. Orc fighters leapt from the woods and struck down more elves in their violent ambush. Kili knew that they would not survive the orc attack being stuck in the river. He looked up and realized all that was separating them from freedom was a lever. Without a weapon for defense, he clamored out of the barrel and headed up the stairs, determined to free his kin. An orc swung an axe at him, barely missing his head as he quickly ducked out of the way. Nori handed him an axe pilfered from a dead orc and he struck down the menacing obstacle in his way. The lever was in his reach and all he needed to do was pull, when a stabbing pain stopped him dead in his tracks. He looked down to see an arrow had struck him in the knee, but the terrible burning sensation from the wound was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Kili reached out for the lever, but found he hadn’t the strength to move, he collapsed in agony just as an orc crested the wall before him; he was in trouble, defenseless and gravely wounded. He held his breath and waited for the blow to strike. She appeared out of nowhere, like a fiery bolt of lightning, as she struck down the orc with a single arrow through the chest. He jerked his head up and relief washed over him as he saw Tauriel battling the orcs. She had saved him yet again, and now he needed to finish the task he started, he needed to reach the lever.

The metal gates swung open and the rushing water propelled the barrels forward; sending the dwarves hurling down the rapids. Kili crawled towards the edge of the rock ledge and looked over to make certain the company had escaped. Fili called out to him, and Kili rolled over the side and into the awaiting barrel; the arrow in his leg snapped off from the force and he screamed out in pain.

 

**Tauriel**

She looked up to see him lying on the ledge, doubled over from the wound in his leg. She loosed an arrow into the approaching orc and stabbed her dagger into another. She could not let them reach Kili. She dropped her guard when she heard him cry out and was nearly stabbed by an orc blade; the anguish in his voice made her realize that something was terribly wrong.

Legolas was making his way over the gate now, striking down orcs with ease as he chased after the escaped captives. She followed, trying to kill as many of the enemy as she could, but her thoughts were with Kili. She was about to drive her blade into an orc, when Legolas called out to her: “Tauriel, leave that one alive.” They were to take him before King Thranduil for answers.

“Why were you tracking the company of 13 dwarves?” The Elven King commanded the orc to answer.

“Not 13. Not anymore. The young one, the black haired archer, we stuck him with a Morgul shaft. The poison is in his blood now; he’ll be choking on it soon.” The orc sneered as he staring straight at her.

Her jaw tensed as the orc revealed the horrific nature of the injury. Anger and fear filled her as she thought about Kili suffering. “You like death orc? Then allow me to give it to you.” She ran at the filthy creature, blades drawn and ready to strike.

“Tauriel! Leave us.” King Thranduil commanded. She took her leave quickly, not looking back as she made her way from the Great Hall to her private chamber.

She burst through the door to her room and slumped against the wall. “Please no. Kili.” Her voice waivered and her chest heaved as she tried to process what the orc had said. If the poison took hold of him, he would surely die a slow and agonizing death. In that instant, she knew what she needed to do and that once she left, there would be no coming back. She needed to move quickly if she any chance of saving him from a terrible fate, she grabbed more arrows, her supply of herbs and on her way out, she grabbed Kili’s bow, and then headed towards the gate.

“Captain, where are you going?” One of the elves guarding the gate asked.

“I must perform my duty as Captain of the Guard. Step aside.” She commanded as she made her way out of the kingdom into the sprawling forest. It took her a moment to pick up the orc’s trail and she sprinted off, running further and further away from the life she knew.

**Kili**

The pain was unbearable. It swiftly spread from his leg throughout his entire body, pulsing until it reached his head, causing him to feel weak and dizzy. He writhed in pain as he examined the wound to his knee; he had been injured before, many times before, yet no pain he had ever left before compared to this searing injury. He lifted away the rag used to quell the bleeding, the wound appeared dark and the blood oozing around it was thick and black. Looking up, he caught Bofur’s terrified eyes staring at him.

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” His face steadied, but still grimacing in pain.

“Thorin, Kili’s injured.” Bofur addressed his king, but Thorin was too distracted by the trailing orc pack to slow the movement of the company.

“Bind it. You have two minutes.” Thorin answered, completely unaware of the severe danger his nephew was facing.

Fili ran to his brother, desperately trying to wrap the injured leg and help with the pain. As the dwarves collected themselves from their daring escape from the elf dungeon, an unseen danger crept up on them, threatening to strike them where they stood. The Bargeman loomed large over the company of dwarves, as he tried to take stock of whether or not they were hostile.


	7. Chapter 7

Bard from Laketown was leery about helping the company of dwarves, but the promise of a hefty payday made the risk worth his time. He did not care too much for the dwarves, but their smaller companion, Bilbo Baggins, was by far more agreeable. Bard needed to think quickly if he was going to find a way to get them all into Laketown without alerting The Master or Alfrid. Fortunately, he had a plan.

**Kili**

How could he tell his uncle about the terrible pain that was tearing through his body and leaving him weakened? Thorin thoughts were consumed by the mountain, but more troubling was the way he talking about the gold inside Erebor. Fili and Bofur were the only ones who seemed to notice that he was injured, and of course his brother spent every waking second fussing over him. Kili had always had Fili; they were inseparable and nothing could ever come between them. He hoped nothing would come between them.

His thoughts came back to her and Kili let out a low sigh thinking about her and how he would probably never set his eyes upon her again. Such thoughts hurt him as much as the terrible injury to his leg. “It is for the best,” he told himself. “What could I possibly offer her?” These thoughts left him miserable and ill-tempered.

“Kee, how’s your leg feeling?” Fili asked softly as they sat around Bard’s house waiting.

“It’s fine. Stop asking will you?” Kili snapped.

“Fine then.” The golden haired dwarf retorted. “I know you’re upset over the elf, but you need to stop being…”

“What do you know of it? Nothing!” Kili hissed. He had never been so hostile to his brother before, and instantly felt guilty about how he was treating him. “I’m sorry Fee, it’s just my leg is hurting something awful. About Tauri…the elf, I know I’m being stupid to feel the way I do. It’s better off, I suppose, and what would she see in me anyway?” Kili grumbled.

“Well not your pleasant disposition.” Fili joked. “But you know Thorin would kill you if he knew you were pinning away for an elf-lass right now, don’t you?”

“I think he’s too consumed with the gold to notice. He’s acting different.” Kili changed the subject, showing his concern for his Uncle.

“We’re so close now to the mountain, and all these delays are frustrating for him. I have begun to worry though.” Fili agreed and Kili was grateful his brother decided to drop the conversation about Tauriel. As he pictured her in his mind, the further away from her he felt.

“Fili! Kili! Come now, we need to get into the weapons supply tonight so we can get out of this pathetic town. I’ll have no more delays, for Durin’s Day is rapidly approaching.” Thorin beckoned to his nephews, interrupting their conversation. The brothers shrugged to each other and readied themselves to break into the armory.

**Tauriel**

She could feel a presence approaching her from behind, she whirled around and came face to face with Legolas.

“I’ve come to bring you back Tauriel. The King is angry, you’ve betrayed his trust. Come back with me and he will forgive you.” He implored her.

“Legolas, I cannot go back.” She replied firmly.

“Is it because of him?” Legolas asked with a pain in his voice.

“I cannot let him die. I must do something.” She said quietly. “Besides, I cannot stand by as the darkness settles across our land. Since when has King Thranduil allowed orcs to wander freely through our forest? We are apart of this world and when did we allow evil to become stronger than us?”

“Tauriel, you cannot face down the orc pack by yourself.” He reasoned.

“But I am not alone.” She said with a smile.

“You knew I would come?” Legolas said incredulously. As much as his heart hurt over her decision, he cared too much for her to allow her to face certain doom alone. He studied the tracks by the river and concluded that the dwarves must have found a way to cross the lake. They ran along the rocks when a large dark spot stopped them cold. It was blood. Kili’s blood. Legolas watched as Tauriel’s face grimaced in horror and the color drain away from her. He needed to accept that she had feelings for the dwarf, but he could not confront his own rejection just now, they needed to continue the chase.

Tauriel’s heart beat wildly in her ears as she sprinted silently through the forest; they had been running throughout the night, gaining on the orcs with determination. “Please hold on Kili.” She prayed to herself as she thought about the poison overwhelming him, taking his life and forever dimming the radiant light in his eyes. He has great strength, she remembered, and hoped against hope that she would not be too late.

**Kili**

He was left behind. He felt an angry heat pulse throughout his body as he watched the barge sail away, without him. What upset him even more was the fact that Fili refused to leave him, so he was going to miss going into Erebor on account of Kili’s injury. Oin watched Kili with great concern as the young dwarf’s eyes began to dim. Nervously, he beckoned to Fili. “We need to get him some place where I can look at that leg.” As the dwarves were discussing where they were going to move Kili, Bofur came running around the corner and almost knocked them over. “You missed the boat too?” He said with confusion. Then he looked up and saw Kili, and he knew that something terrible was happening to him.

“Please, no one will help us.” Bofur pleaded with Bard. The bargeman was in no mood for dealing with dwarves.

“No. I’m done dealing with dwarves.” Bard said with no small hint of irritation in his voice.

“It’s Kili…he’s sick. He’s really sick.” As soon as Bard settled his eyes on the dwarf, he recognized that the lad was indeed quite grave. He beckoned them into his home and wondered if anything could be done to save the dwarf.

**Tauriel**

“There! Orcs on the bridge to Laketown. They have not reached the village yet.” The steady voice of her dearest friend broke the silence of the dawn, and scattered her fears. She was so thankful he was by her side, her forever companion and greatest ally. A twinge of guilt and sadness crept into her heart as she thought about how hurt he must feel over her decision. She knew she would have to face his heartbreak, but right now the task at hand was dire and every second wasted could mean the difference between life and death.

They rallied together, moving as if they were one being, stealthy killing as they made their way through the array of houses. The orcs were converging on one modest house, and Tauriel knew what lay inside those walls. She sprinted up the steps and burst through the door, she heard desperate screams coming from the kitchen and she saw Fili standing between several orcs and some terrified girls. She fired an arrow into one of the invaders and stuck her blade into another as she caught Fili’s gaze. He looked shocked to see her standing there, but resumed his fierce defense of the huddled children as he buried a strange looking axe into an orc’s back.

Legolas burst through the window, taking off the head of an orc looming over the old dwarf; his white blades flashing in the light as they dispatched the enemy with ease. The orcs were regrouping outside as they realized their prized dwarf, Thorin Oakenshield, was no longer in Laketown.

She heard his voice cry out in pain, and she whipped around to see him lying on the floor, clearly in utter agony. He was alive, but just barely and if she did not act quickly, he was sure to die. Legolas beckoned to her, but understood that she would not be following him as he disappeared into the night.

“We’re losing him!” The elderly dwarf yelled out as he struggled to move Kili back onto the table. The terror in Fili’s eyes nearly stopped her heart however, and she understood how deeply he loved his brother.

“Get him on the table and hold him steady!” She commanded and they all jumped into action.

“What are you doing?” The dwarf in the silly hat asked.

“I’m going to save him.” She said with determination as she retrieved the flowery weed from her pouch of herbs. “He’s been poisoned by a Morgul shaft. Hold him still. I need to see the injury.”  
She removed the wrapping on Kili’s leg and her heart sank; the wound was festering and oozing black. This was going to require much more than medicine, she would need to perform elven healing magic far beyond her skill if he had any chance. She silently prayed and quickly went to work.

**Kili**

His eyes were dark and all color of life had drained out of his face. He could feel nothing except the burning pain and he struggled against the pressing weight bearing down upon him, holding him in place. The agony was almost too much for him to bear and he felt his life slipping away. He was fading, no longer seeing with clear eyes, and his mind was playing tricks on him as he gasped for breath. She appeared before him, as if in a dream. Tauriel. He felt relief in seeing her image in his mind one last time before he was to die. She was above him, chanting in her elvish language with her eyes fixed directly upon his own. She was glowing like one of her precious stars now; radiant and exquisitely beautiful as she spoke. His eyes were closing and he felt as if he were breathing his last, when he heard her whisper to him “Come back to me Kili. Please do not leave me.” Her plea jolted his eyes to open and he fought back against the darkness. He could not leave her, not now. Not when there was still so much he wanted to tell her, he needed to tell her. I am not ready to die yet, he thought and as he battled for his life, he promised himself that if he lived, he would find her and tell her everything he felt in his heart and that he would do anything to be with her, even if it was just for a moment.

**Tauriel**

He lay asleep on the table, restlessly and fitfully asleep, but alive and resting despite his grave injury. She turned to clean her hands, trying to remove the stain of evil upon her. She willed the poison out of him, she had pleaded for his life, and she had saved him. Her hands were shaking, her whole body trembling with a mixture of fear and relief after the ordeal. He had come so close to dying, she could feel his life slipping away from her but he was strong, stronger than she could ever have imagined, and fought hard to live. She knew he must have been in incredible agony from the poison and knew it was nothing short of a miracle that he held on for as long as he did.

She turned to see Fili and the other two dwarves staring at her; their eyes were as terrified as her own and she realized just how much they cared for Kili. “That was a privilege to witness.” The older dwarf remarked as he bowed his head to her. She smiled weakly, and then turned away as she was not ready to answer their eventual questions.

“Tauriel…” He uttered her name so sweetly, it sounded like a desperate prayer.

She wanted to run to him, to throw her arms around him, but she knew they were watching her. “Lie still.” She murmured as she approached him.

“You cannot be her. She is far away. She is far, far away from me. She walks in starlight in another world.” His breathless words were the most beautiful she had ever heard spoken. “But it was just a dream.” His fingers reached out for hers and they laced gently together once more. “Do you think she could have loved me?” His voice was just above a whisper now and his eyes were struggling to stay open. She watched him as he drifted back to sleep and as she held his fingers between hers, she sighed quietly “yes.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Tauriel**

Her magic and medicine had done their work, and the blush of life returned to his pale cheeks and the dark circles surrounding his eyes began to fade. In his slumbering state, he reached for her hand once again, and she did not hesitate to allow his large, calloused fingers to spread between her own. She stared at their hands together for a moment; remarking on how battered and hardened they both appeared. For a long while, when she was younger, she felt ashamed of her rough hands. When the High Born She-Elves visited the Woodland Realm, she would gaze upon their delicate and smooth fingers; fingers that had never drawn an arrow or wield a knife, fingers that had never spilled blood or become calloused from fighting. As she looked at her hand now, gently nestled into his, she finally realized its beauty.

He murmured softly in his sleep, whispering words in his mysterious language. She smiled and brushing her other hand against his cheek, she cooed “sleep now, you must rest.” Sigrid appeared at the door behind her, bringing with her a glass of cool water. Tauriel pulled her hand away from Kili’s at the sight of the young woman.

“My lady, you should rest also. You’re looking as pale as him, and that must have taken a good deal out of you.” Sigrid spoke in sweet and revered tone to the lovely elf.

“I should keep watch in case the orcs return.” She replied.

“Masters Fili and Bofur are keeping guard. The old one is sleeping, as are Tilda and Bain. You should rest while you’re able to do so, who knows what will happen once the dwarves reach the mountain.” Sigrid may have been few in years, but she had known much sorrow and struggle in her life, and understood the threat of danger.

“I am fine” She went to stand up, but felt, for the first time since leaving Mirkwood, the full burden of exhaustion wash over her. She felt her legs tremble and begin to give way. Sigrid raced over to offer her assistance, and helped her into the bed beside the sleeping dwarf. “Lay here my lady and sleep.” The comfort of the bed beneath lulled her into a dream-like state and she closed her eyes and gave in to her fatigue.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, their fingers found each other’s again; their hands grasping the other’s and then arms pulling them closer and closer until there was no longer a space between them and they were a tangle of limbs, breath and hair.

**Fili**

Fili woke with a start as he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Bofur! Are the orcs back?” He jumped, reaching for the sword at his side.

“No lad, the orcs are gone and I do not think they will return.” The dwarf with the funny hat replied.

“Then what is wrong? Is Kili alright?” Fili looked around nervously.

“Aye, the lad is alright. More than alright I’d venture. But we might have a wee problem on our hands.” Bofur gestured towards the room where they had laid the injured dwarf, Fili moved cautiously towards the door way. As he peered into the room and what he saw almost stopped his heart.

They lay huddled together, curled into each other with his arms wrapped around her body, and her arm slung over his shoulder with her fingers tangled in his hair, her other arm folded against his chest; her legs, while much longer, were tucked neatly between his. Their foreheads were pressed together as they lay completely and blissfully asleep.

His eyes widened and his jaw fell slack as he tried to process the scene before him; while innocent enough, he felt his face turn burning hot at the sight of his brother entangled with a woman. He was ready to storm into the room, to shake some sense into his idiot brother, when he felt Bofur’s hand fall against his back. He turned to his friend as Bofur silently motioned for them to head outside. Fili, his face a mix of anger and confusion, followed the older dwarf out the back door on to the landing.

“What is he thinking? How could he be so reckless and foolish?” Fili yelled. “How” he gasped “How did this happen?”

“Yes, I’d like to know exactly what he did to get an elf-lass into bed, must be a first for dwarfs. I wouldn’t mind one in my bed either.” Bofur teased, but Fili was not in the mood for jokes.

“I’m serious Bofur, what will Thorin say about this? You know how he feels about elves!” He argued as he rubbed the side of his head with his meaty fingers.

“Thorin will be upset, but what can he do? He will yell, maybe throw some stuff around, but you know how much he cares for Kili.” Bofur smiled as he pulled out his pipe.

“You know this will end badly for him. Thorin will never accept them together and he will cast them out. Where in Middle Earth can they go? They will be isolated and shunned- not just by the dwarves but by the elves too! It is just not natural for our kinds to mix.” Fili shook his head as a terrible sadness crept over him. He loved his brother more than anything or anyone, and the thought of him brokenhearted nearly reduced him to tears.

“I don’t know much about these things lad, but seeing them together looks like the most natural thing in the world. You know son, we don’t always get to choose who we love; sometimes it just happens and that doesn’t make it wrong. Maybe it will end badly or maybe they will find a way, but for right now, let them have this moment.” Bofur sighed as he settled himself down on a step and puffed on his pipe.

“Curse that she elf for making him fall in love with her. She will only hurt him.” Fili dropped his head and leaned against the wooden rail.

“Did you even ask yourself why she is here? Why she showed up when Kili was near death?” Bofur began.

“Yes, probably to bring us back to the elf king.” Fili growled.

“You really think that’s why she came? She knew he was stuck with a poisoned arrow- that he was dying.” He continued.

“So?” Fili said unsure what was coming next.

“I’m saying that she didn’t run all the way from Mirkwood, battle a slew of orcs and perform extraordinary magic that saved your brother’s life because she wanted to bring him back to Thranduil.” Bofur reasoned. “Think about that for a moment Fili before you decide to curse her.”

Fili turned his head away and tried not to believe what he was hearing. He walked back into Bard’s nearly demolished house and headed towards the room where his brother lay sleeping. He decided that he would end this madness here and now; that he would talk reason into the two of them, to get them to understand that this was an impossible situation. As he approached, he heard a beautiful sound coming from their room. He held his breath as he crept around to have a better look inside. There, he saw that the elf was awake and singing to his still sleeping brother in her elvish tongue. She gently swept away a strand of his dark hair from his face and then caressed his cheek with her long fingers. Her eyes fixated upon the sleeping prince as she lowered her head to press her lips gently on top of his. Fili watched as she tucked her head back against Kili’s and slipped back to sleep. A tear fell slowly from Fili’s eye and his heart swelled with pride and happiness. His brother, who had been rejected all his life by nearly everyone, had found his One Love. Fili watched them for a while, but he was no longer angry or concerned for his brother’s heart, instead it was replaced by determination. Somehow, he would find a way for a dwarf and an elf to live a life together.


	9. Chapter 9

**Fili**

He walked into where the kitchen used to be and up righted a chair so he could sit and consider his brother’s situation. The thud of the chair legs hitting the floor must have startled whoever was sleeping in the other room, because he heard the sound of feet shuffling towards him. He was surprised to see Sigrid, Bard’s eldest daughter, emerging from her sleeping spot on the floor.

“Master Fili,” She started. “Are you alright? I heard a noise, have the orcs returned?”

Fili studied her for a moment, how did she remember his name when most everyone confused him and his brother?

“I’m fine, Sigrid. I’m sorry to have woken you. It’s been a long night and I just needed a moment to think.” He said quite exasperated.

“Your brother is alive and resting, that must give you comfort.” She began as she lit a small lantern and put on some water for tea. “He looked quite ill, and I was certain we would lose him. He’s most fortunate that Lady Tauriel arrived when she did.”

Fili thought about what Sigrid had said for a moment; even he had to admit to himself that he believed Kili was not long for this world. “I thought we would lose him too. I don’t’ know what I would have done had Kili…” His voice trailed.

“All is well though, Master Fili. Although the ordeal has taken much out of them both, as they are resting now.” She said as she picked up a cloth, wiping out two mugs.

“It’s just Fili, Sigrid; you don’t have to be so formal with me. I am grateful that she-Tauriel,” He corrected, saying her name caught him by surprise. “Saved his life. I’m more than grateful. I just am concerned of the nature of their relationship.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand” She asked.

“He is a dwarf and she is an elf. Our kinds do not mix as there is so much bad blood between us that it would be impossible for them to be together.” He sighed as he spoke.

“Impossible how? They clearly love each other. Don’t you think that maybe it’s time for reconciliation between your kinds?” Sigrid said as she opened a tin, scooping out tea leaves.

“You’re young, child, and quite naive. You don’t know how the world works yet.” He grumbled at her, dismissing her words.

“I am not a child. I have known what it means to suffer, but I have not hardened myself against the world where I cannot see beauty where it lies. Life is fleeting, Fili, one must find happiness where they can and embrace it- never letting it go.” She retorted, allowing her voice to rise slightly as she spoke.

“Happiness? What happiness will there be for them when Thorin casts them out? What happiness will they find among the elves? None. That is the problem.” Fili countered.

“It seems to me that Thorin is the one with the problem.” Sigrid replied sharply.

“How so?” He asked.

“The love between Tauriel and Kili has nothing to do with Thorin. If he cannot share in their joy, then it is his problem, not theirs.” She said as she gestured to room where they slept.

“Sigrid,” He began. “You see the world so differently from how it actually exists.”

“And how is that a bad thing?” She challenged. “I see them together and rejoice in their love. I fail to see how love between two people could ever be anything but wonderful.” She said as she poured the water for tea, returning to the table with the steaming mugs.

Fili considered her words, and conceded that she did have a point; if she could so easily accept a dwarf and an elf together, then maybe others could as well. “I wish everyone saw things through your eyes Sigrid. I truly do. I was wrong to call you naïve, you are wiser than most.” He allowed himself to revel in her optimism.

“Are you making fun of me now?” She pouted.

“No, I would not dare to make fun of you.” He jested with a smile. He took a sip of his drink and wondered just how she could have known so much about the nature of Kili and Tauriel’s relationship. “Do you really think that they love each other?”

“Now who’s being naïve?” Sigrid said with a giggle. “It’s as obvious as the hair on your face.”

They sat together in silence as the sun began to crest over the horizon, filling the shattered house with an orange glow. He felt a calm peace in her presence; a peace he had not felt in a long while.

“Fili,” her voice startled him from his thoughts. “I never did say thank you for saving my life, and Tilda’s too, earlier. Thank you.” She blushed as she spoke, quickly colleting the spent mugs and moving away from the table.

“You’re most welcome, my lady.” He said quietly as he allowed himself to glance at her as she began to busy herself in the kitchen. As he looked, he realized that he had been wrong about her- she was certainly not a child.

**Kili**

The dawn breaking cast a beam of new day sunlight over his face, causing his eyes to flutter as he awoke from his deep and restful slumber. He had been dreaming of her; hearing her voice and watching her as she was aglow with the light of her beloved stars. He was reluctant to give up the dream, as he knew when he opened his eyes, she would be gone. Thinking about her made his heart swell with joy, and he would trade all the years of his life for one more day with her.

His eyes were still cloudy with sleep, but he swore he was seeing a flash of red lying upon his cheek. His eyes forced themselves into focus as they followed the crimson streak until they settled on the source. He froze and let out a soft gasp as he beheld the great beauty that was huddled in his arms: Tauriel. He swallowed hard as he stared at her; was he still dreaming? He drew his fingers up to gently touch her hair, half convinced that she would disappear under his touch. But as he caressed the silky threads spilling from her head, she did not fade away into the morning; her body remained slumbering softly against his. He listened to the sweet rhythm of her breathing and marveled at how the sunlight danced across her lovely features. He closed his eyes and silently thanked Mahal for this most unexpected blessing.  
He watched her for a few moments as she slept, he felt his heart would burst from surge of love coursing through him. He leaned in closer, softly brushing his nose against hers as he murmured amralime, as he began to hum an old love song of his people.

**Tauriel**

She awoke to the low hum of his voice vibrating against her chest, sending waves of warmth over her body. She let out a sigh as her vibrant green eyes met his, and she felt the world fall away from her as she gazed upon him. She adored the way his eyes creased and how his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. She could not conceal her feelings any longer, nor did she want to, for she knew she would feel no greater happiness than when she was with him.

“I must be dreaming.” He whispered softly. “You cannot be real.”

She smiled back at him, brushing her hair from his cheek. “You are not dreaming. You were close to death from the poison in the arrow. It almost took your life”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” He grinned as he spoke.

“I nearly lost you.” Her voice caught in her throat as she whispered.

“I heard you call to me in the darkness. You asked me to come back to you.” He moved his hand against her face as large fingers stroked her cheek. “You saved me once again. I owe you everything.”

“I couldn’t let you die.” She murmured.

“Why is that?” He asked breathlessly.

“Because I…” Her eyes widened as she stroked his cheek with her delicate finger. His hand cupped her face and he pulled her closer, she did not resist as his mouth found hers in the light of the new day. His kiss was tender and gentle, filled with sweetness and promise. He released her mouth and looked sheepishly at the floor. “I’m sorry,” he began to speak, but was silenced as she pulled him back against her lips, hungry to feel his breath against hers again. They held each other in desperate passion, neither willing to let go of the other. She drew her mouth away and let out a giggle as she blushed deeply, suddenly aware of her boldness. He pressed his forehead against hers and laughed along with her, allowing the wonder of the first expression of their love to wash over them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sigrid**

“Where could Da have gone off to?” She thought to herself as she began to clean up the mess left by the orc attack. She was worried about her father, hoping that he was not in serious danger. Perhaps the dwarves would help her find him; after all, they were unwanted guests in his nearly demolished home. Nothing about her life had been routine since they have popped up through her toilet and she was beginning to wonder how things could go back to the way they were before.

Despite herself, she rather enjoyed the company of the dwarves, well a few of them anyway. Thorin and Dwalin were rather frightening to her, and she could not understand a single word that came from Bifur, but the others were pleasant enough. She was especially fond of one in particular; his golden hair and intense eyes flashed in her mind, causing her mind to wander.

His voice startled her out of her daydream, and she nearly dropped the bowl she was busy scrubbing. “Sigrid, would you like some help washing?” Fili asked. “The dishes I mean, would you like help washing the dishes?” He seemed flustered suddenly.

“If you wouldn’t mind handing me the dishes that are still in one piece, we could finish them faster.” She smiled as she spoke. “Would you like some eggs on toast for breakfast?”

“I do not want to trouble you. Besides, we should probably be headed off to the mountain now that Kili’s leg is on the mend.” He said softly.

“I don’t know about you lad, but eggs and toast sound delightful right about now! I haven’t had a proper meal since we left Bilbo’s house in The Shire and I’m half-starved to death.” Bofur sauntered into the kitchen, stretching his arms and producing a loud crack from his back. “Where are the lovers this morning? Still sleeping, or perhaps otherwise engaged.” He winked as he hit Fili on the arm.

“I believe they are sleeping. I should wake them though, as it’s about time we rejoined The Company.” Fili frowned.

“Oh Fili, let the lad have some fun! Now, let’s get started on those eggs.” Bofur grinned as Fili groaned.

“Eggs? Is it time to eat yet?” A low voice called out from the sitting room.

“Ay Oin, you’re awake. I figured you’d be sleeping long into the day.” The dwarf with the silly hat joked.

“What’s that now?” The old dwarf asked as he searched for his hearing device.

“Nevermind.” Bofur called. “Funny how well he hears when food is concerned.” He muttered to himself.

“Sigrid, where’s Da?” The sleepy voice of Tilda asked as she emerged from her chamber.

“Yes, he should have been back ages ago. I hope he is alright.” Bain said as he furrowed his brow.

“He did not come back last night. I am worried about him” She said privately to Fili as she tried to keep her positive outlook for the sake of her worried siblings. “I’m sure he’s taking care of some business by the docks.”

“Where could he be? Sister! The orcs! You don’t think…” Bain said with his voice awash with worry and dread.

“Do you think something awful happened? Oh Sigrid!” Large tears spilled from young Tilda’s eyes as she began to openly sob. “I want Da!”

“Come now child, dry those tears!” Bofur sighed as he scooped up the distressed little girl. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why he’s not home here with you. We will find your Da, I promise love.” Tilda buried her face into Bofur’s coat as he spoke.

“Promise?” She whispered as she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Promise dear.” He repeated with a smile. He patted the small lass on her head and gave her another reassuring hug. “We’re not going to be any help to anyone without a decent meal in our bellies though. Sigrid, might I help you with the cooking?”

Fili looked irritated over the prospect of yet another delay, but could hardly deny that Bard had put himself and his family in great peril for the sake of the dwarves. “Very well. It is the least we can do, and I do not want to leave Bard’s family undefended.” He said as he glanced over at Sigrid. “I’m going to look in on Kili.”

She watched as Fili approached the door to the bedroom with great apprehension. She wondered what had transpired between them in the bedroom, blushing slightly as she imagined herself lying in bed next to a certain dwarf. Such thoughts left her feeling quite warm and confused, but excited none the less. “Bofur,” she smiled. “Could you kindly hand me that large mixing bowl?”

**Kili**

She was beautiful when she smiled, even more so when she was laughing. He delighted in the musical sound spilling from where his mouth had just been. He watched her for a moment, still not able to comprehend that she was here with him, much less that she had pressed her lips passionately against his. Her kiss left him feeling dizzy and warm all over his body; a feeling he had never experienced before and he reveled in the moment, allowing no other thoughts to disturb him from the bliss of having her in his arms. He reached again for her hand and felt her graceful fingers nestle safely between his own.

**Tauriel**

She was always so composed, so steadfastly guarded with her feelings and emotions, that the urge to kiss him took her completely by surprise. What was it about him that made her so rash and bold? How could he hold such power over her? The mystery that was her heart was beginning to reveal itself as she listened to him laugh. She gazed at him and smiled; he was everything that an elf was not; hairy, stocky, short and uncouth, but none of that mattered to her. He was perfect and she knew in her heart that wherever he was, she belonged with him.

**Fili**

He held his breath as he stood before the door, silently praying that he would not catch his brother in a compromising position. From outside the room, he could hear the sounds of laughing coming from both Kili and Tauriel. Elves laugh? He wondered to himself. Well if anyone can make one laugh, it’s Kili. The forever prankster with the easy sense of humor; his brother rarely took anything seriously, much to Fili’s dismay. The sounds grew silent, and Fili did not want to miss his opportunity to interrupt.

He rapped loudly against the door and to his relief, he heard Kili shout come in and he carefully entered the room.

“Good morning brother, Lady Tauriel.” He gave them a nod as he entered the room. They were still intertwined on the bed, the same tangle of limbs he had witnessed last night. Seeing them again caused him to blush, and he quickly cast his eyes down at the ground. “I trust you are feeling better.”

“Ay Fee, much better!” Kili said with that irresistible smile on his face.

“Good morning Master Fili.” Tauriel said shyly as she sat up, she too was avoiding eye contact. “Let me see if Sigrid requires assistance.” Fili noticed that her hand was still firmly in the grasp of his brother’s; that she did not recoil in his presence.

“I can help too!” Kili purred, reluctant to see her leave. He pulled her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss upon it before releasing her fingers from his.

“You rest. I can handle it.” She smiled as she slipped out of the bed and glided towards the door. She nodded her head in acknowledgement at Fili as she left the door, closing the door behind her.

Fili watched his brother as he sat up and folded his arms behind his head, grinning from ear to ear. “You have to be the worst dwarf in history.” Fili stated as he shook his head. “Wipe that stupid grin off your face you damn idiot. What have you gotten yourself into now? Of all the reckless shit you’ve pulled, this is by far the worst!”

“Don’t be like that Fee!” The younger dwarf pleaded. “I can’t help it! She’s wonderful and beautiful and she saved my life…like three times at this point!” He reasoned wildly.

“Why is it always you? Do you even know what Thorin is going to say? He will probably kill you over this!” Fili scolded as he raised his voice.

“I love her, Fee. I know that through and through. Nothing is going to make me change my mind and I will not allow anyone to come between us.” Kili’s voice lowered as he spoke. He was full of confidence and determination.

Fili let out a loud sigh as he sat down on the bed next to his brother. “I know. You’ve been daft over her since you first laid eyes on her.” He picked at a piece of lint on the thread-bare blanket. He could never stay mad at Kili, it had been like that since they were young and he believed it would always be that way.

“I think she might have a thing for me. She let me kiss her.” Kili smiled slyly as his face turned red.

“Seriously? Just a kiss? The way she was singing and fawning over you last night, I thought I’d walk in on something my eyes don’t want to see.” He jested as a small smile broke out on his face.

“Ay! You were spying on us then? You sneaky shit!” Kili teased as he tackled his brother right off the bed, sending them both to the floor with a heavy thud. They tussled on the floor for a minute, and then both burst out laughing. Fili slapped his brother on the back before pulling his forehead against his own. “I am happy for you Kee.”

“Thanks Fee.” Kili said quietly.

“You do know that Thorin is going to kill you, right?” Fili couldn’t help but grimace thinking about the terrible reaction his uncle would have to the news.

“Probably. Guess I’ll have to have you tell him then.” Kili joked as Fili rolled his eyes; his brother did not take anything seriously.


	11. Chapter 11

**Tauriel**

As she walked away, she knew that Fili must not have been pleased by what he saw, but if they were to have any ally, it needed to be him. She hoped that he would understand, that he could see past the years of prejudice and mistrust and find acceptance. “None of this will be easy,” she thought to herself. “But I am willing to try. My resolve is strong.”

“Sigrid, is there anything I can do to help?” She asked the lovely young woman.

“No Lady Tauriel, please rest. May I offer you some tea?” Sigrid replied.

“Sigrid, please call me Tauriel. As you can see, I am no high-born lady.” She was suddenly curious about her hostess; exactly who was she in relation to the dwarves.

“I apologize for the formality, I’m afraid we do not see many elves or even dwarves in Laketown. Da always taught us to show respect when it is earned. I hope we find him soon, I don’t know how we will make it without him.” Sigrid’s voice faded and her shoulders sunk at the reminder of her missing father.

“Your father is missing?” She asked with confusion.

“He, Bard, our gracious host, did not return home last evening. We have made a promise to his children to locate him before we depart for Erebor. We met last evening, but I doubt you remember my name. I am Bofur, at your service.” He said as he bowed.

“I am Tauriel, daughter of Mirkwood, at yours.” She replied. “I will assist in the search as well, it would be my honor.”

“Laketown is a modest town, but can be difficult to navigate if you do not know your way around.” Bain stated.

“Perhaps it would be wise for us to split up, cover more ground faster.” Fili suggested as he nodded at the young man. “Bain, you and Bofur should search the docks. Be sure to ask if anyone has seen his barge since yesterday. Sigrid and Tauriel, we can cover the town.”

“I can search too, brother.” Kili offered, looking hurt that Fili would exclude him.

“No Kili. I need you to stay here with Tilda and gather your strength for the journey to Erebor. Oin will stay also in case Bard returns home.” Fili commanded.

“But I want to look for Da too!” Tilda’s small voice chimed in above the din. “I don’t want to stay behind.”

“It is decided, Tilda. You must stay here.” Bain said with authority, causing Tilda’s face to fall.

“But Bain, I want..” Tilda began to please.

“It is decided. We will hear no more of it. Da would want you to stay safe. He would not want you wandering the town.” Sigrid ordered.

“We shall meet back here at dusk, unless we find him sooner. Let us not delay any longer, go ready yourselves.” Fili stated as he nodded at Sigrid. “Oin, can you see to the dishes?”

As they prepared to depart, she could see the disappointment in Kili’s eyes over being told to remain at the house. “You know he is right, don’t you?” She said to him quietly.

“I do not like being left behind. I can help, I’m better now.” He grumbled.

“Kili, you almost died. That wound has taken much out of you, and it is best for you to rest. I almost forgot! I brought something for you.” She walked to where she cast off her weapons the night before and retrieved Kili’s possession. “I knew you would want it back. Besides, you asked me to keep it safe for you.”

“My bow! I did not expect to see it again.” His face lit up at the sight of his weapon. “Thank you.”

“Use it to defend Tilda in case the orcs return. I will return soon nin meleth.” She touched his face as she spoke her elvish endearment.

“Be careful.” He smiled. “You’re my savior and I’ll never make it on my own without you.” She could not help but adore the way his brown eyes gazed up at her as he spoke.

“Tilda, please look after him for me.” She stooped down to meet the little girl’s face. “He needs to rest, but I fear he might give you a bit of trouble. Do you think you can manage?”

Tilda nodded at her and a hint of a smile peaked in the corners of her mouth. “I will!”

Fili called to her and they left swiftly, determined to locate the missing man, hopefully still breathing.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sigrid**

The town was alive this morning with confusion and fear. The damage left behind by the orc pack caused many residents to take to the streets with gossip and dismay.

“I heard they were looking for the dwarves. Did you see what they did to Bard’s house?” Touted one of the women of Lakewood to a crowd of people.

“Have any of you seen my father? He did not return home last night.” She implored the group, but none of them seemed to know anything about his whereabouts.

“Child, perhaps he was killed in the attack. Have you checked the Hall of the Dead yet?” A somber fisherman questioned.

“My Da is not dead! He cannot be. I will keep looking for him, good day.” She quickly hurried away, forcing back tears.

“I would not hurt to check Sigrid. That way we will know for certain.” Tauriel said quietly.

“I will go. You two continue asking around, I will meet you at the ale house.” Fili nodded at Tauriel and she ushered Sigrid towards the center of town. He took his leave of the ladies and went back to speak to the fisherman.

“He’s alive. I know he is. We have lost so much, we cannot lose him too.” She said softly as she pulled at the threads on her apron, trying to busy her hands.

“We will find him. Now, let us continue the search.” The elf motioned and Sigrid followed.

**Fili**

The Hall of the Dead was a foul place indeed, and the smell coming from its chambers nearly overwhelmed him. He searched through the cavern for Bard, praying that he would not be among the corpses. Many of the dead were orcs, the reminder of the ambush the evening before sent a wave of anger through his body. “They tried to kill Sigrid and Tilda,” he said to himself. “What kind of monster attacks the defenseless?” The scene of Sigrid nearly being stabbed by an orc blade caused his fists to clench and his jaw to tighten; if he had not stayed behind to tend to Kili, what would have happened to her? Surely she- and her siblings- would be in these foul halls. Thinking about her lying on the ground, still and cold, made him swallow hard.

He tried to force the thought from his mind as he continued to search through the dead. “He’s not here.” He said with relief. “Where could he possibly be then?” Suddenly, it dawned on him to question the steward of the town, perhaps he could be of some assistance. He pulled the door to the Hall shut tight and went to find the ale house.

**Tauriel**

She could feel the girl’s desperation and remembered her own pain of losing her parents long ago; she thought about Legolas, and how he had been there to comfort her. She worried for his safety, as he left alone to pursue the orc pack. He was a more than capable and skilled fighter, but he was greatly outnumbered. She felt a stab of guilt over allowing him to go off on his own and silently prayed that he was alright.

“Sigrid, might I ask you a question?” She forced herself to speak, trying to divert her mind away from Legolas being in peril.

“Yes, anything.” Sigrid said.

“How did you come to be acquainted with the dwarves?” She asked as she stopped outside the ale house.

“Da brought them into our home. He said that they needed our help, and that we needed to keep them hidden from The Master. They only stayed with us the one day, then most of them departed for the mountain. A short time later, Bofur knocked on the door and begged us to let them in, on account of Kili being sick.” She explained.

“You seem so at ease with them, as if you’ve known them for many years.” She smiled, trying to lift the girl’s spirits.

“Well Bofur and Oin seem nice enough, and poor Kili is so sweet, despite being sick, so they made it easy for me to like them.” Sigrid stated as she smoothed back her hair.

“And Fili?” She asked.

“He is kind and thankful. He never once left his brother’s side when he was ill, his devotion is admirable. Plus he saved my life when the orc’s came. I owe him much.” Sigrid said softly.

“He’s very protective of Kili, I do not think he approves of his brother with an elf.” She found herself revealing much to the young woman, but Sigrid had a way about her that made her feel comfortable.

“I would not say that. Fili is just afraid for you two. He thinks the world is not ready to accept your love. But I think that more than anything, he wants Kili to be happy. Give him some time, he will come around.” Sigrid allowed herself to smile as she remembered their conversation in the wee hours of the morning.

“Kili told me the same thing back in the dungeons of Mirkwood. I hope you’re both correct.” She keenly observed Sigrid as she spoke about Fili; noting how her face flushed and how she returned to fidgeting with her apron strings. “His eyes are quite intense. He seems very serious, much more so than Kili anyway.”

“He does have intense eyes, but there is a softness about them too. He seemed so sad when we spoke about the two of you, as if he felt it his duty to protect you from the world. He is very selfless and he has the heart of a lion. He would make a wonderful king.” She stared off at the mountain as she spoke.

Tauriel wanted to ask her more about her conversation with Fili, but was soon interrupted as the dwarf walked into view. “Here he comes, hopefully with some good news.”

**Sigrid**

He walked with such power and confidence, his gait strong and forceful, and his hair was illuminated in the mid-day sun. She bit her lip as she tried to quiet the swimming feeling in her stomach, not understanding the strange sensations she felt when he was near.

“He is not in among the dead. I think it’s time we questioned the town’s leader though.” He said as his eyes bore into hers.

She shuddered. The Master was conniving and unfair in his treatment of the town’s people, but his assistant, Alfrid was worse. He was cruel and shifty; he always watched her when she was about town and as of late, he had made several advances on her that made her most uncomfortable.

“Where do we find him?” Tauriel asked.

“He is usually at his house this time of day. This way.” She motioned to the others as she made her way towards the largest, grandest home in Laketown.

She held her breath as she rapped loudly at the front door, half terrified, but determined to converse with the occupants.

“Well what have we here? Ello Sigrid. Come to beg for the release of your father?” Alfrid sneered at her as he leaned against the door.

“My father is in jail?” She gasped. “Why? What could he possibly have done?”

“Any number of charges. He is a menace, a threat to the whole town he is!” The scoliosis afflicted man rampaged.

“My father has done nothing wrong and you need to release him now!” She could feel her anger building towards this wretch of a man, wanting to lash out at him, but knowing it would not help her father’s situation.

“Well now, you have quite the little temper, love. I like that in a woman.” Alfrid reached his hand out and tried to touch her cheek. She turned away quickly, but it was Fili who intervened.

“I’d keep your hands to yourself if I were you. Tell us why you jailed Bard? We want him released immediately.” The golden haired dwarf imposed his will upon the cowardly man.

“Oh he’s not getting out anytime soon. And you don’t make the rules little man, The Master does and I’m his enforcer. He’s going to rot in prison unless, of course, the lady and I can come to some sort of agreement.” His eyebrows arched as he loomed over Fili, desperate to seem important.

“She won’t be making any agreement with you, and you do not get to speak to her that way.” Fili’s eyes flashes as he reached for something hidden in his pocket. She quickly put her hand on Fili’s shoulder to defuse the tension.

“Alfrid, please may we speak to The Master about the release of my father?” She implored, hoping she might be able to reason with the old man.

“I’m afraid The Master is not available right now. Plus I doubt he’d be willing to listen to the likes of you anyway.” Alfrid’s lip curled as he spoke, unmoved by her pleas. “Your father is going to stay nice and cozy where he is for a long, long time. If you decide you want to change that fact, then you know what you need to do. Until then, good day.” He slammed the door hard, and the clap of sound caused her to jump back.

“I hate that man.” She muttered under her breath. “What are we going to do now?” She said turning to her companions. “Where is Tauriel?” Neither had noticed that the fair elf had slipped away.


	13. Chapter 13

**Tauriel**

She did not have much patience for the dealings of men, and she knew that if Bard was being held in jail, it was unlikely The Master would release him. She stealthily wandered the streets, searching for the tell-tale signs of a prison, until her eyes caught her target. The building was weather worn and shabby, with rusted metal barring gating the tiny windows. The windows overlooked the lake; the only possibility for an escape would be from the water. She needed the other’s help if this was going to have any success.

“Figured we would find you here. What are you planning?” Fili asked as he stood next to her, watching the ripples move across the water.

“Gather the others, we are going to need a boat and some rope.” She ordered and to her surprise, they followed.

Soon enough, the sky overhead grew dark; and the cover of night would provide the backdrop to enact their plan. The search party converged on the edge of the lake, poised to enter the boat.

“We will need row together in order to create enough tension to unseat the metal bars.” She said. “Bofur, you and Fili sit in the back of the boat while Bain and I sit upfront. Sigrid, make sure the rope does not come undone.”

They row silently until they were against the outside wall of the prison. “Da?” Sigrid whispered softly, calling to her father.

A moment later, they heard rustling coming from inside one of the cells and a shadowy figure moving towards the light of the moon. “Sigrid?” Bard called back, his face visible through the spaces of the bars. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to get you out!” Sigrid said as she handed her father one end of the rope. “Tie this to the bars, Da.” The bargeman did as his daughter asked, and as they rowed, he used his strength to push on the bars from the inside of his cell. The force caused the wood surrounding the bars to splinter; loosening the metal so they could easily be pulled out of place. Bard, now free from the prison, climbed into the boat as they rowed away. Sneaking cautiously through the streets, they made their way back the disheveled home.

**The Arrival of Smaug**

“Da!” Tilda shouted as she leapt from the kitchen chair and into the arms of her beloved father.

“You’re back! And you found Bard! I was beginning to wonder if you were coming back.” Kili grinned as he revealed what he and Tilda had been doing to occupy their time. “Tilda and I were practicing braiding. She’s not half bad.” Kili turned to show off his new hairstyle.

“Look Da! Kili braided my hair. Isn’t it beautiful!” Tilda whirled around, showing off the delicate and sophisticated braids spilling from her head.

“It’s lovely my darling.” Bard murmured as he hugged her tightly.

“Durin’s Day has ended. I hope they were able to enter the mountain. We must be off in the morning to rejoin our kin.” Fili announced, stoic as ever, as he watched out the window.

“Let us eat Da, you must be starving after….” Sigrid began but was quickly interrupted by a terrible sound filling the air and taking the breath out of everyone. The mountain had come alive, but more precisely, the dragon inhabiting the mountain had come alive.

All stood still as a second roar broke the evenings calm as it sailed over the water and into the homes of Lakewood. “Take your children and go!” Fili called to Bard as a wave of panic set upon his face.

Bard stood for a moment, bowing his head in sadness. He lifted his eyes to meet those of the dwarf prince. “Go where? No. We have nowhere to go. But I have this.” The tall bargeman pulled on the rod above the kitchen, revealing a large, black arrow. “I need to get to the Wind Lance. It is the only way. You need to take the children and get to the boat, stay on the water away from the town.”

Bofur carried Tilda into the boat, followed by Kili and Tauriel, then Sigrid and Bain. Bard put his hand on Fili’s shoulder as he muttered “Please keep them safe. They’re all I have.” Fili nodded as he cast the boat into the water and steered them along the water ways.

The crashing of enormous wings grew closer and closer still, then came the fire; an immense blaze of heat tearing though the town, leaving utter ruin in its path. The sound of frantic screams and falling beams was deafening, as was the horrific voice of Smaug The Dragon. She watched as the beast began to lay waste to the entire town, torching the quaint homes and filling the air with ash and the smell of death.

“The Wind Lance!” Kili shouted as he pointed to the burning platform. “It’s on fire!” They all looked on as their only hope for salvation rapidly burned away.

“Da!” Tilda screamed.

Bain’s eyes, glowing orange from the light of the fire, turned and met Fili’s. “I must help him.” Fili shook his head as he spoke “Your father wants you to get away from here.”

“I’m sorry, but I know what I have to do.” Bain turned to his sisters and gave them a final smile before he leapt from the boat and scurried towards the demolished Wind Lance tower.

Tauriel could not hear their crying over the roar of the monstrous beast, but she pulled Sigrid back down into her seat. She turned to Kili, who was watching the sky, and reached for his hand. Their eyes locked in shared terror. He pulled her closer and kissed her passionately, moving his hand to the back of her head, stroking her hair as he held her mouth on his. “Tauriel, I..” He began to say before Bofur’s shouting snapped them out of the moment.

“It’s Bard! He has the Black Arrow!” The dwarf shouted to his companions. Tilda and Sigrid jumped to their feet as they watched their father, half smoldering, trying to create a bow from the remaining pieces of the charred Wind Lance.

“Look out!” Sigrid screamed as Smaug soared overhead and blasted a cascade of fire at the nearby houses. Fili grabbed both girls, pulling them down to the floor of the boat before covering them with his own body, protecting them from the flames. Kili, still clutching Tauriel, gazed upwards to see Bard, standing tall atop the near-demolished tower, aiming the long arrow with the help of Bain. Kili held his breath as he watched the arrow fly through the air, before it hit its target; striking the terrible beast with supreme accuracy. Smaug let out a ferocious roar as he began to free-fall out of the sky. He landed in the water with a horrific crash and then moved no more. The dragon was dead.


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

 

**Kili**

They rowed ashore as the sun peaked on the horizon; fully revealing the utter devastation that once was Laketown. Its citizens, those still breathing, were hauling themselves out of the water and frantically searching for loved ones. Fili leapt from the boat and gave his arm to help Tilda and Sigrid as they made their way onto the sandy shore; exhausted and trembling, they called out for their father.  
He watched them frantically screaming for their only remaining parent and found himself missing his own mother. She had been left behind, not by choice, but out of necessity: if her sons and brother perished on this quest, she would be the last remaining of the Durin line. He allowed himself to fully process that fact, and for the first time, truly consider how perilous this quest had become. His thoughts went to his Uncle and the remainder of The Company; were they still alive? If they were not, then the burden of ruling would fall to Fili, as he was the next in line for the throne. Kili prayed that nothing ever happen to his elder brother, for he knew that while Fili would be a remarkable leader, he would not.

All his life he had grown up in Fili’s shadow, and while sometimes it did irritate him, being the youngest afforded him the opportunity to be irresponsible and reckless. Fili was expected to carry himself with dignity and reproach, but when it came to Kili, he felt that everyone had long since given up on him ever becoming a respectable dwarf. He was born different, and the dwarves from the Blue Mountains never let him forget just how different he was from their kind: he could not grow a proper beard, he was tall and lanky, he was sensitive and worst of all was that he was skilled with an elvish weapon. As a child, he had been called cruel names and ostracized by most of the community. “Kili the Elf,” he winced as he reminisced on days past; recalling the taunts and fights he and Fili had gotten into with the other dwarf children. He glanced over at the wondrous beauty standing tall on the shore and smiled; “imagine the names they’ll call me now.” He thought as he watched her silently.

“Kili,” the sound of Bofur’s harmonious voice caught him off guard as he daydreamed. “How are you feeling lad? That was quite a terrible scare you gave us.”

“It was just a scratch. I’m fine now.” He shrugged as he shook the water from his boots.  
“I am glad you’re better now.” Bofur said as he patted him on the back. “Couldn’t help but notice you’ve, um, found yourself a lovely new friend.”

A small chuckle escaped his lips, “yes, well…” His voice trailed as he caught Tauriel’s eye as she brushed the sand from her uniform, he grinned back at her.

“I am happy for you, truly I am. She is a fine woman.” He said smiling as he held Kili’s shoulder.

“Aren’t you going to tell me that it’s foolish or impossible? Or that Thorin will probably kill me?” He asked as he raised his eyebrow.

“Naw. I figured Fili already gave you an earful about all that. Besides, if anyone can get away with foolish things, it’s you Kili.” Bofur laughed. “We should help Fili with the boat, I’m sure he wants to be heading off soon.”

“Yes, I know he wants to leave.” He said listfully as he turned his gaze from Tauriel to the mountain. Before him stood the victorious end of their long journey; the reuniting of his people with their homeland. Behind him stood the woman he loved; the one he wanted to share a lifetime happiness with, and he felt completely torn between fidelity to his family and the desire of his heart. How could he make such a choice?

**Sigrid**

She was screaming for him, desperate to hear the sound of his voice calling back to her, but there was no sign of him or Bain. Tilda was hysterically crying; clutching onto her hand as they waded through the sea of misery surrounding them. Standing in the middle of the chaos, she looked down at her sister, trembling from the chill of the morning and the fear that held her heart. It was time for her to be strong again; to set aside her owns worries and tend to the needs of her younger sister.

“Let’s get you warm.” She softened her voice as she spoke to Tilda. She turned around and watched as Fili and Bofur prepared the boat, hoping that perhaps they could offer her some support. She remembered how steady Fili was during his brother’s illness, and prayed that she could find the same strength in herself to get through this difficult situation.

“Fili,” She began. “Have you seen Da or Bain? We can’t…” her voice broke and she tried to swallow her tears. “We can’t find them.”

“I’m sure he survived the fire. We watched him fire the arrow that killed the dragon. He is probably trying to find you right now.” Fili’s calm voice was reassuring to her.

“Dry your eyes, my sweet girl! He will turn up soon, don’t worry love.” Bofur cooed as he pulled his coat off and wrapped it around Tilda’s tiny frame. Large tears streamed down her cheeks as she snuggled herself into the warm garment. “Come little one. Let’s see if we can find you something to eat.” Bofur said as he led her over to where a crowd of survivors had gathered.

“I hope you’re right Fili.” She sighed. A shiver escaped her body and she could not control herself from shaking.

“Your father is a resourceful and clever man.” Fili said as he removed his own tattered coat. “Here, take this please. You’re freezing.”

“You don’t have to,” she said. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Come here.” He grumbled as he reached for her arm while muttered to himself. “…stubborn…half frozen…” She stooped down as he wrapped her up in his jacket, rubbing the chill from her arms with his own thick fingers. “Better?” He asked as he stepped back, trying to conceal the blush on his face.

“Thank you.” She smiled, feeling her own cheeks beginning to glow. His coat, still alive with the warmth of his body, lay heavy against her shoulders. She pulled it tighter to her as she huddled in its comfort. She felt something in the pocket and slipped her hand in to retrieve the mystery object. “Aye! This is my boning knife!” She cried.

“Well I needed a weapon, and that was the only decent one I could find.” He stammered.

“And this is my paring knife! You sneak!” She smiled as she removed a second hidden object from the fur trim of his coat. “Are there anymore?”

“One more,” he muttered as he fished yet another knife from the hem. “You can never have too many.” At the sight of the final reveal, she couldn’t help herself from laughing. He looked down at the sand, trying to stifle his own giggle, but found himself laughing along with her. Their eyes met again, and she felt quite warm indeed.

“You’ll probably want them back.” He said sheepishly as he scratched at a spot of dirt on his sleeve.

“No,” she said as she held them out to him. “You need them more than me.”

“Thank you Sigrid. Thank you for everything.” He said as he took the knives from her hand; his voice sounded troubled.

“Please take care of yourself Fili.” She sighed as bowed her head gently to the handsome dwarf. Saying goodbye was far more difficult than she could ever have imagined. She began to bid him farewell, but stopped when she heard Tilda’s voice yelling above the crowd.

“Da! Da! You’re alright!” The young girl ran quickly into the arms of her father. He scooped her up, holding her close as tears filled his eyes.

She barely felt the sand beneath her feet as she raced to be reunited with her family. She had never felt such relief before in all her life. “Da! Bain!” She cried breathlessly as she felt her father’s loving arms wrap around her.

“I was so worried!” She smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes. “You killed the dragon. We saw, we all saw.” She said as she turned to see Fili and Bofur walking up behind her.

“That I did.” Bard said as his eyes met the dwarves. “We will need the gold from Erebor to rebuild the city.”

“And you will get it. My Uncle is an honorable man.” Fili furrowed his brow as he spoke.

“The Master is dead! We have no food! What shall become of us?” The shrill voice belonging to Alfrid cried out, causing everyone on the beach to fall into a quiet hush as they watched him thrash about. “Who will lead us now? Who will protect us?” He wailed as he wandered to where Bard was standing. “Bard! Bard is the one who killed the dragon! He should be the one to lead us! All hail King Bard!” Alfrid’s voice echoed as he fell at Bard’s feet in hollow admiration.

“Get off me, Alfrid. I’m not your king.” The bargeman scoffed, but the crowd immediately began to flock towards him; revering the man who defeated the beast and calling for his leadership.

“It is not a terrible idea.” Fili said. “You’re a good man, Bard. You will be a fine ruler.” He motioned to Bofur and Oin that it was time to take their leave. “Goodbye Bard, thank you for your hospitality.”

“Thank you for keeping my daughters safe. Have a safe journey.” Bard said stoically.

“I don’t want to say goodbye!” Tilda said through sniffles.

“This is not farewell forever, love. I’m sure we will be seeing you again, my little princess.” Bofur joked. He hugged her tightly and kissed the top of her head. He smiled at Bard’s family and then went to the boat.

“Goodbye Sigrid.” Fili said dolefully as looked up at her and nodded silently.

“Goodbye. Please take care.” She had to turn away quickly, not being able to bear watching him walk away. Her heart filled with sadness and her eyes with tears. She pulled his coat tighter around her body, allowing his scent to surround her as she breathed in her final moment with the dwarf prince.

**Tauriel**

The morning had come, and with it brought the inevitable truth that she fought so hard to deny. She watched him with a heavy heart. She knew that they would soon be parted, and that he would return to his own kind. It was time to say goodbye.

“Tauriel,” he said softly. “We are leaving for Erebor now.” He reached out for her hand and held it tight; his eyes shone in the glow of the new morning light.

“I know. You have delayed long enough. As have I. I must face the consequences of my actions.” She sighed as she looked into his hopeful face.

“Come with us.” He implored. The sweetness of his plea caused her heart to skip a beat.

“Kili, you know I cannot. I…” She began to speak but no words would come to her.

“I am not afraid. I know how I feel when I am with you. You make me feel alive.” His eyes stared into hers as he spoke. Her heart beat wildly as she listened to him; he had no fear of being vulnerable around her, he held nothing back when they were together. She so badly wanted to tell him everything; to tell him that she wanted him and him alone, and for them to share a life together. That she could not bear to lose him and that she felt love growing inside her heart for the very first time in her life. But she could not say those words, because while she was willing, she knew the time had come for her to answer for the things she had done. She needed to make amends for the harm she had caused.

“This is not goodbye.” She touched his cheek with her hand and felt the warmth of his body flow through her.

“Amralime.” He murmured to her as he stroked her hand.

“I do not know what that means.” She said breathlessly.

“I think you do.” He smiled as he kissed her fingers lightly.

“They are waiting for you.” She said quietly.

“Before you go…” He reached for her, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he pulled her towards him. He kissed her in the light of the morning, without shame or reservation; he drew her mouth onto his with the promise of pure love, and she hadn’t the strength to pull away.

“Tauriel.” The Elf Prince’s voice, filled with hurt, broke the spell she was under. “Tauriel. It is time to go.” Legolas said as he approached from the forest. She could not turn to face him yet; she was not ready to let go of Kili. Not ready for the moment to end. Not ready to watch him leave.

Her lips released his and she touched his forehead against her own; a gesture she had understood as affection. “I must go now.” She whispered as she began to walk away from him.

“Please,” he said as he drew something from his pocket. “Take this. Keep it as a promise.” He pressed the object into her hand as he smiled sadly at her before he turned and walked towards the boat. She knew the object before her eyes could see it: his rune stone. The gift of his irreplaceable treasure caused tears to spill from her as she watched him push the boat into the water. Her heart ached with terrible sadness as he rowed away from her, towards the mountain. “Good bye,” she whispered to herself. “Goodbye, my love.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Fili**

The shore began to shrink away from him as they rowed towards the mountain, he glanced back one last time to steal a glimpse of her as she stood huddled together with her family. It was a curious thing, the way he felt when she was near; how he could be so easily disrupted and flustered. The surprising thing was that he hadn’t really noticed her much before their early morning conversation. He had been too occupied by Kili’s injury to pay her any mind when they first arrived, plus he believed her to be quite young upon seeing her. However, something changed after that morning, and he couldn’t work out what it was that was different about her.

He could not deny that she was quite beautiful for a daughter of men, and he had seen many lovely women in his time. But she was different from them all. She was vulnerable yet formidable in her opinions, devoted solely to her family, authoritative when needed and utterly selfless. Most importantly, he thought, was how she treated them with respect and dignity; not a hint of prejudice despite growing up next to the ruins of Dale. She accepted Kili and Tauriel without question, and for that, he was grateful. He hated the way that weasel Alfrid spoke to her, and if he’d had his way, he would have buried her boning knife right between those wretched eyebrows. He hoped that now, with Bard in charge, that no harm would come to Sigrid and that Alfrid would be cast out.

In his heart, he knew that there was no possible way he could ever act upon his feelings for her; he was next in line for the throne, and while Kili could make reckless decisions, he could not. He knew that he would be expected to marry the daughter of a highborn dwarf, to continue the line of Durin with a proper and respectable spouse. He needed to be responsible and consider what was best for his people, and a lovely young woman from Laketown had no place among his kin. But still, he mused, she occupied a place in his thoughts and in his heart that he could not deny.

He tried not to dwell on her as he rowed towards the mountain. He looked at his brother, and knew that he was hurting inside as well. “You know you’ll see her again, right?”

“I hope so. I cannot imagine a future for myself without her in it, Fee.” Kili sighed as his paddle glided through the water.

“Oh I think you’ll be reunited soon, if she has any say in the matter.” He nudged his brother and offered a reassuring smile. “She fancies you.”

“I asked her to come with me.” Kili’s brown eyes, still filled with sadness, looked upon him as he spoke.

“How do you think that would have gone over with Thorin and the rest of The Company?” He smiled at his miserable looking brother; trying to lift his spirit.

“I don’t care what Thorin will say. She is the one I love.” Kili grumbled. His head turned in defiance, but his expression quickly shifted as the Lonely Mountain came into view; the spectacle of it brought him to his feet. “Look! The Mountain!” He shouted.

“Behold! Our long forgotten home. Erebor.” Oin revered as the dwarves gazed upon the mountain.

“We are finally going home.” Kili smiled. “We will finally see the splendor created by our ancestors.”

“Our father was born in Erebor.” He said to his younger brother. “We are going to look upon the same halls he once knew.” His face was a mix of determination and remembrance of days long ago.

“I do not even remember him, Fee. Tell me again, what was he like, our father?” Kili asked as he sighed quietly.

“Vili was brave, with an axe in one hand and a sword in the other. His roar was mighty and his anger fierce, all feared his wrath. Our father had a wondrous beard, long and golden and filled with braids. I remember tugging on them whenever I would sit in his lap; he would howl and pretend to be hurt just to make me laugh.” He paused at this memory. Allowing himself to smile as he remember the tremendous love he felt for his father.

“He loved mother.” Fili continued. “He would sing to her; you remember that old love song mum would sing to us when we were small to get us to sleep? He would sing that to her as she was cooking, and she would always shoo him away, but smile when he wasn’t looking. He loved you too, Kee. He cried when he held you after you were born, and he rocked both you and me to sleep while mother recovered from labor.”

“He gave me my first knife; carved it himself from bone and antler, and showed me how to strike. I remember the last time I saw him: he hugged me before he left for battle and I felt so small in his massive arms. I begged him not to leave, and he told me that it was a dwarf’s duty to fight for his king and kin; that it was an honor to join Thorin in battle, and that if he died, he would join his ancestors in the afterlife. He held mum and he touched your tiny forehead with his thumb, and then he was gone. Forever.” He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. It had been many years since Thorin had delivered the news of Vili’s death, but he had never healed from the loss.

“I wish I had those memories.” Kili’s soft voice lifted him from his thoughts. He lowered his head sadly as he rowed towards the approaching shore. The dwarves pulled the boat from the water and all stood silently as they looked upon the mountain.

“Kili, we will enter Erebor together, you and I. We will stand where he once stood, and we will continue his legacy. We will welcome our kin and our mother home and we will defend the Lonely Mountain at any cost. Just like our father before us.” He grasped his brother’s shoulder as they began their walk towards home.

**Kili**

They walked through the fields, once alive many years ago with crops and livestock, now burnt and decayed by the fire drake that had occupied their homeland. The trek was long and the terrain was treacherous, but nothing could deter them from reaching their destination. He thought about what Fili had said to him; about his father’s love for them and continuing his legacy. He wondered how Tauriel would factor into that legacy. “Would she give up her home to come live with me under the mountain?” He roused to himself. “How can I possibly ask her to leave everything she’s ever known behind? It’s an impossibly unfair request to even consider.” He decided that if they were to have any life together, he would be the one who makes sacrifices; he wanted her to be happy, and if she was happy, then surely he would be too.

Stone and debris littered the ground near the gate of the mountain; a stark reminder of the terrible creature that had burst forth from inside and laid waste to Laketown. The dwarves made their way through the wreckage and arrived at the gate of Erebor at last. He turned and smiled at his elder brother, overjoyed to be sharing in this moment together. They nodded to each other and walked into one of the great halls.

“Erebor.” He said as he closed his eyes and inhaled the smells of the past. “We are home at last.”

“ _The birth place of my father and mother. The halls of my ancestors. The home of the Rightful King Under the Mountain.”_ Fili spoke in Khuzdul; the secret language of their people.

The brothers embraced and touched foreheads as they shared a silent moment in revered remembrance of those who perished here many years before. “We must see if Thorin and the others are alive.” Fili said as he separated from his brother, walking with authority through the great room while leading Bofur and Oin. He watched his brother take charge, and smiled with pride; Fili is a natural leader, and he will make a fine king.

They entered a smaller room that still smelled of dragon’s fire and were greeted by their burglar, Bilbo Baggins. He ran towards them, arms failing as he was saying something they could not understand.

“Allo Mister Baggins! Where is the rest of our…” Kili began but was soon interrupted by the hobbit’s frantic pleas.

“No! No you cannot be here! You need to leave now! Right now. Please Fili, take Kili and get as far away from here as you can. It has Thorin, he is not well.” Bilbo’s panicked tone set a shiver down his spine.

“Bilbo, we just got here. We’re not leaving.” He said as he put his hand on the halfling’s shoulder.

“Where is Thorin?” Fili asked the trembling Hobbit.

“The sickness has him. He is not himself and I fear for you two if you stay.” Bilbo pleaded, still trying to convince them to flee.

Fili stepped around the hobbit, his eye had caught the glint of something lying deep in the mountain. Curious, he began to descend the long staircase leading into the cavern. Bilbo continued to object, but knew his words could not sway their loyalty to their uncle. They stopped at a balcony overlooking a large room, and found Thorin deliriously wandering through an immense hoard of gold. Horrified, Kili watched as his uncle began muttering to himself as he searched for an unseen treasure.

“Uncle.” He called, praying that upon hearing his voice, Thorin would snap out of his madness.

“Welcome to Erebor, my sister’s sons.” Thorin bellowed as he picked up a gem the size on his fist and hurled it at them. Fili caught the large ruby and after looking upon it for a moment, he dropped it to the ground.

“Gold-sickness. It has over taken his mind. He is obsessed with finding The Arkenstone, and he has not slept or eaten for days. I do not know what to do.” Bilbo’s voice began to break as he spoke.

“What do the others say? What of Dwalin?” Fili asked as he put his arm around their troubled friend.

“Come.” He said. “I will take you to them.” They followed the burglar down the hallway into a large room.

“Ay! Brother, have you forgotten about me?” Bofur jested as he called to Bombur. The heavy dwarf leapt to his feet, as did all the others, and surrounded the four missing Company members. They exchanged hugs and pleasantries as they reunited. Soon, the conversation turned to Thorin and what could be done about his affliction.

 

**The Search for The Arkenstone**

“It is known as The King’s Jewel or The Heart of the Mountain. Thror, Thorin’s grandfather, saw the jewel as a sign of his divine right to rule. According to dwarf legend, he who possesses the stone has the authority to unite all the dwarven kingdoms.” Balin explained.

“If we find The Arkenstone, will that help bring him round?” Fili implored to Balin.

“I fear it will only make it worse. The jewel drove Thror to madness, and fear the same will happen with Thorin. He may not recover from the sickness that consumes him if the gem is found. It should remain lost.” The elder dwarf reasoned to the group, and nodded silently to Bilbo.

“What are we to do about Thorin then?” Kili asked desperately.

“You are going to help me find The Arkenstone. None shall rest until I have it in my hands. Search now. Your King commands you.” Thorin roared as he appeared in the doorway, eyes wild and his lip snarling.

Kili looked to his brother for guidance; hoping that he would find the words that would release their uncle from the spell he was under, but Fili, always loyal, would not defy the order of his king. The dwarves searched the cavern filled with enumerable treasures for the missing gem, but found nothing. As the sun rose on a new day, Kili realized the hopelessness of their endeavor and began to despair. His uncle’s mind was lost to him; he had become someone he did not recognize, someone who cared not for him or Fili or The Company or even Bilbo.

**Kili**

“Come now, all of you.” Thorin called to them and all followed him on to the rampart overlooking the city of Dale. The army of the Woodland Elves had stationed themselves at various points in the city, all focused on the mountain.

“Elves?” Kili gasped.

“News of the dragon’s death has spread and they have come to take our gold. Do they think they can march upon us? _I will die a thousand deaths before I let that filth touch my treasure._ ” Thorin’s angry threats echoed through the valley as he growled in Khudzul.

A single rider, astride a white horse, approached their gates; his hair was dark and tangled, his clothing full of ash, but he was unmistakable: Bard the Bowman had come to speak with the King Under the Mountain.

“Thranduil is preparing for war. He has brought his army and will lead them to your gate unless you honor our agreement. Thorin, you are greatly outnumbered, you will be slaughtered. Will you council with me?” Bard implored. “Please Thorin. I cannot risk war, my people have suffered enough.”

Kili watched as his uncle listened to Bard’s request for their share of the promised treasure, wincing when Thorin refused him. “You gave us your word. Does that mean nothing to you?” Bard’s harsh tone caused his heart to skip a beat. Surely his uncle would not ever go back on his promise to help the people of Laketown. Thorin was an honorable dwarf.

“You threaten us with war and demand we part with what is rightfully ours? We bargained away our people’s birthright for blankets and food, our legacy for freedom. No, I will give you nothing. I owe you nothing. Leave now!” Thorin yelled to the bewildered bowman. Bard, looking disgusted, departed for Dale on his horse.

Kili knew that what his uncle was doing was wrong, terribly wrong, but if it was his will, then he would heed him. He loved his uncle, and he would follow him to his death if he asked. As the dwarves readied themselves for war, the memory of his morning with Tauriel seemed like a fading dream; a dream that would soon pass into shadow.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

**Tauriel**

She stood immobile on the shore, illuminated by the morning light that reflected the blossoming tears as they traced their way down her pale cheeks. The gift of his rune stone had moved her; never had she received anything so personal before and the pain of saying goodbye left her aching inside. She tightened her fingers around the treasure as she pulled it towards her chest, remembering their first encounter in the dungeon of Mirkwood and how his smile had wedged its way into her heart. She licked her lips, still tasting his kiss, then tried to steady herself as she turned to face her dearest friend. “Legolas, I am relieved to see you well.”

“Tauriel.” the prince said softly as he attempted to conceal his sorrow. “ _This is your choice then? To be with the dwarf?”_

She studied his face for a moment, knowing what she was about to say would hurt him. _“Yes.”_ She breathed quietly. _“He has my heart, mellon.”_

He winced. The corners of his eyes creased and his brow furrowed at her words. “I do not understand your decision, but now is not the time to discuss this.” Legolas approached her, a look of concern replaced the sadness on his face. “I trailed the orcs to the edge of the forest, and watched them depart to the North. They wore a marking I have not seen in many years; they bore the mark of Gundabad.”

“Gundabad?” She asked, confused by his distress.

“It is an ancient fortress that housed an old enemy. One I believed to be vanquished, one our people fought valiantly against, but now it seems to move again in the shadows.” He spoke as his eyes searched far over the horizon; focused on a long forgotten memory.

“Thranduil needs to know about this development. He can no longer ignore the darkness that looms outside our gates. You must go to him. Tell him what you have seen, Legolas. Persuade him to fight.” She allowed her passion to elevate her voice as she spoke.

“Not yet. Not until I see with my own eyes what lies inside Gundabad. Will you ride with me?” His voice lowered as his eyes blinked back into focus.

She nodded her head in agreement, and they soon left on horseback, destined for the dark cavern and uncertain danger.

The sight of the fortress filled her with insurmountable dread; the overwhelming presence of misery and death hung in the stale air and choked her breath. “This is a foul place.” She muttered to herself.

“An age ago, our people waged war on these grounds.” Legolas began as he surveyed the tower. He paused and for a long while, he was silent. “My mother died here. My father never speaks of her. There is no grave, no memory.” His voice was soft and resonant with bereft. She swallowed hard, wishing she could find the words to comfort her dear friend. Instead, she was startled by the sight of shadows passing in a window atop the tower.

“There!” She pointed. “Something moves inside.”

“We will wait for the cover of darkness if we are to get a closer look.” He reached for an arrow as he prepared to stand guard.

The night fell upon them. Soon the quite was broken by the screaming of winged monsters as they flocked from the sky towards Mount Gundabad. Her eyes darted to his; awash with uncertainty as they waited with baited breath to behold the evil that was beginning to spill forth from the Mount: An orc army, led by Blog, spawn of Azog, emerged from the gates, prepared to unleash utter destruction. The enemy marched towards the south, ready to ambush The Lonely Mountain.

“They have raised an army to attack Erebor.” Legolas whispered.

“We must warn them, they have no idea what is coming for them!” She said desperately, completely terrified of what was to come. “They are coming for the dwarves,” she thought to herself. “They are coming for Kili.”

They slipped silently and unseen from their hiding spot, and rode back towards Dale as swiftly as their horse could carry them. She needed to get a message to Kili, she had to find a way to warn him about the orc attack before it was too late.

 

**Sigrid**

She watched as her father, bold and self-assured, gathered the remaining townspeople as he led them towards the ruins of Dale.  The walk was long and difficult, but she refused to stop or accept assistance. She knew they were in a dire situation; they had no shelter, no food or blankets to keep them warm. If they were to survive, they needed the gold promised to them by Thorin and they needed it now.

They reached Dale before nightfall, and stood stunned by what lay before her; ruins of vast halls, grand homes and a tremendous room that once housed an impressive marketplace. She tried to imagine what the city must have looked like before the dragon arrived and destroyed everything in his path. The grand spires and sprawling halls must have been quite the sight during their time; she wondered if they would rise again now that her father was in charge.

“My lady,” one of the village women implored. “My child is hungry and needs food.”

“I will speak with my father. Here, come with me. I will see what I can find for the little one.” She cooed as she tried her best to comfort the distraught mother and her crying child. She led them to a gathering of people and secured a portion of food for them. The townspeople listened to her; they cleared a path for her wherever she walked and did not question when she asked for food.

“They are looking to father for leadership, and therefore to me as well.” She thought. “These people are my responsibility now, and I will do all I can to protect them.”

“Sigrid!” Her father’s voice called to her. “How is the food supply?”

“Dwindling. I fear we will run out soon.” She said as she pulled at a loose thread on her tattered dress.

“We need to find a way. Please darling, can you get the women, injured and children into the marketplace? We can take shelter there tonight. I will ride to Erebor tomorrow to speak with Thorin. Hopefully he will honor his agreement.” Bard’s voice sounded worried as he spoke of the dwarf king.

“Fili said that Thorin is an honorable man. I am sure he will help us.” She said with a smile.

“Fili is not his uncle, my love. But hopefully he can be reasoned with.” He pulled her close and hugged her tightly before he bid her farewell. “Alfrid, take first watch tonight. Alert me if anything moves.” Bard ordered.

She gathered the stragglers into the ruins of the marketplace and did her best to comfort those in need or in pain. It was remarkable to her; how she was literally invisible while she lived in Laketown, but now she was revered and respected. She tucked Tilda and Bain into a makeshift bed and kissed them goodnight. Before turning in, she looked towards the mountain and thought about the dwarf prince who must certainly be dwelling inside by now. She wondered if Thorin was still alive or if Fili was the new King Under the Mountain. If her father was to become King of Dale, then she would be its princess; and with that would come the responsibility of looking after the kingdom. She wished she could ask Fili for advice right now; to seek his wisdom on ruling and obligations. She sighed as she rested her head against her hands. So much was uncertain now, and that uncertainty loomed over her as she slipped off to sleep.

 

The morning brought with it a new alliance; the Elves of Mirkwood, led by King Thranduil had arrived during the night, bringing with them food and supplies. Her father had taken council with the Elven King and she was left to tend to the townspeople. She waited to hear what brought the elves to Dale, but she suspected it had something to do with what lie inside the mountain: the gold and treasure.

She was speaking with one of the women she designated to distribute the provisions when they emerged from their council; her father and the king stood together, still engaged in private conversation. King Thranduil was both glorious and terrifying to behold. His long shimmering hair cast a pearlescent glow in the sunlight and his piercing blue eyes seemed to stare right through her father as they talked. The sight of him left her reeling, and made her feel very small indeed. Her father, on the other hand, seemed at ease and completely relaxed around the statuesque splendor as they seemed to share a mutual respect for each other. The King, magnificent and fair, nodded his head slightly to Bard

as they parted ways.

“Sigrid, mind the city while I am away. I seek to speak with Thorin, and I must persuade him to hand over Thranduil’s starlight gems as well as our promised gold. The elves are here to take what they believe is theirs by any means necessary. They will bring war to the gates of Erebor if I am unsuccessful.” Bard spoke to her no longer as a child, but as a trusted advisor.

“I wish you luck. Be careful, Da.” She hugged him before he climbed his horse.

“Please let Thorin agree to the terms.” She silently prayed. “The elves will lay waste to Erebor, and all who dwell inside the mountain.” Fear for the dwarf prince’s safety gripped her heart, and wished she could be the one riding to their home instead of her father. She longed to see him again, to watch his eyes twinkle as he smiled and she would give anything to hear his laugh just one more time.  

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Fili**

He watched as Bard rode away, back towards the city of Dale, towards her. With Thorin’s refusal, war between elves and dwarves was all but certain, and now men had further cause to join the fight. The gold-sickness was ravaging his Uncle’s mind, twisting and perverting his thoughts until he was unrecognizable. Fili was disgusted over Thorin’s treatment of Bard; after everything the dwarves had put the poor man and his family through, denying his people’s need for aid was the breaking point.

He allowed the hypocrisy of the situation to dwell in his mind: Bard calls upon his neighbors for assistance after their home is ravaged by a dragon, not unlike how Thorin pleaded with King Thranduil when Erebor was seized. Thorin had become the thing he despised most, and that thought filled Fili with rage.

He found his uncle wandering through the endless supply of gold. “Thorin,” he began. “The people of Laketown are suffering, starving and now homeless because of us. How can you turn your back on them?”

“They are fortunate that they survived dragon fire. They should be rejoicing, not wallowing in pity like the pathetic creatures that they are.” Thorin growled as he gazed upon the treasure horde.

“You gave them your word! Thorin, you said you would help them.” He argued passionately.

“What help did they offer us?” The dwarf king sneered.

“Bard and his family took us in, gave us food and shelter. We brought utter ruin upon them! Bard killed the dragon. He killed the dragon that we unleashed.” He shouted as his hands clenched and his jaw tightened, yet he stood his ground against his kin.

“Is that where you stand then? With his lot? If you wish to help, then leave. His people will revere him as their savior. I did him a great service then, he should be thanking me.” Thorin’s voice boomed through the cavern, alive with power and hatred. “This is my gold. Mine. I will not give it to a man who spoke against me.”

“Can you not see what you are? Do you not hear yourself? Thorin, you are consumed by this treasure- by The Arkenstone, and you are blind to the problems it has caused.” He shook his head in frustration.

“The Arkenstone is the only thing that matters now. There is nothing else.” The dwarf king loomed over Fili as he asserted his authority.

“Nothing else matters to you then? Do we not matter? Does it not matter to you that Kili nearly died in Laketown? Did you hear what I said? Your nephew nearly died for you and this horrid place! Does that mean nothing to you?” He was screaming now. Tears welled up in his eyes and his body trembled, wracked with unimaginable anger.

Thorin reeled at his words, and took a step backwards as he tried to regain his composure; his eyes wide and his mouth contorted. For a moment, he said nothing. The air was heavy and the space between them laced with danger, but Fili would not back down or relent against his uncle.

“I am relieved that Kili is well. Everything I have done, I have done for you and your brother. Someday, when you are king, these halls will be yours and you will understand the importance of The Arkenstone and what it means to our people. But I am your king now, and you will heed my words. Do not question me again, my sister’s son. Do not give me cause to doubt your loyalty.” Thorin’s words were bitter, punctuated and cold; they caused Fili to elicit a slight gasp as he realized that the man he knew as his uncle was gone.

A quiet voice interrupted the tension. “Thorin, the elves will surely be marching upon us soon and we are severely outnumbered.” Bilbo said as he placed his hand on the king’s arm, hoping to draw his attention away from Fili.

The dwarf lord turned to face the hobbit, grinning as he processed Bilbo’s words. “Not for long. We must prepare ourselves. _Hear me now, my kin! Arm yourselves! For tomorrow, we defend our keep._ ”

The harshness of Thorin’s words in Khuzdul echoed through his body; ringing in his ears as he breathed out. He dropped his shoulders and ran his hands through his hair. To war then. There would be no peace between the races, no good will or show of kindness; only death and further ruin.

**Sigird**

Her father returned with the news she had been dreading; Thorin would not honor their agreement and the townspeople would have no choice but to fight. She felt hurt, betrayed over this slight, and could not understand why the dwarves would turn their backs on her people. How Fili could turn his back on her? She bit her lip as the sting of tears burned in her eyes; blurring her vision. “So that is it then? We are to fight them for gold? Why will he not help us?” She cried aloud, her voice breaking as she pictured Fili sitting at her kitchen table, smiling to her as they drank tea. “Why? I do not understand.”

“It is the gold. It has corrupted Thorin’s mind, making him sick with greed. Dragon Sickness.” King Thranduil said as he swept towards her, his ornate coat trailing behind him. “I warned his Grandfather of what would happen if he could not control his greed. Now it seems Oakenshield has fallen to the curse as well.”

“Curse?” She gasped. She felt a shiver of fear slide down her spine. Was Fili cursed also? She tried her best to force the thought out of her mind.

“Bard, I told you; you cannot reason with dwarves.” The Elven King said plainly.

Bard shook his head at Thranduil’s words. “You have no choice then.”

“Are we not allies in this?” The fair elf asked as his eyebrow raised slightly.

“Ay. We are.” The Bowman sighed as he nodded, his face still frozen in an uneasy grimace. “Sigrid, get the women and children into The Great Hall and find Bain. We need to rally all the able-bodied men to the marketplace.”

She turned to do as she was told, when a powerful voice bellowed from the crowd. “Out of my way!” The throngs parted and an old man dressed completely in grey wearing a pointed hat and carrying a staff appeared. “Who is in charge here?” He called out.

“Who wants to know?” The slimy voice of Alfrid called out.

“It’s alright Alfrid. I’m in charge. What can I do for you my good sir?” Bard asked as he approached the stranger.

The stranger eyed the man standing before him; he was dressed in threadbare rags, his hair scorched and his face weary, yet there he had a command about him that was undeniable.

“Mithrandir.” Thranduil said as he greeted the Grey One. “This is Bard, Ruler of Dale and Slayer of Smaug.” She noticed her Da blush at the titles Thranduil gave to him. “Might I introduce you to Gandalf the Grey?” Her father looked surprised upon meeting the distinguished man, but he presented himself with pride and grace and the old wizard retuned the courtesy.

“Is there somewhere we can speak in private? I have much to tell you.” Gandalf bore a look of concern as he addressed the two leaders. They hurried away into Thranduil’s tent, and she was left standing alone.

She took a deep breath, and set off to do her father’s bidding. If war was to come tomorrow, then she needed to do what was necessary to keep her people safe.

**Tauriel**

“Faster.” She thought as they rode over the rough terrain. “We must reach them in time.” She would not allow herself to think about what would happen to Kili if the orc army breached Erebor. “Please,” she prayed. “Please do not let us be too late.” The thought of Kili lying dead upon the ground, his brilliant eyes forever dimmed sent a terrible shudder through her body.

**Kili**

Morning had come. They gathered arms and adorned themselves with the finest armor Erebor had to offer. He was dressed in magnificent splendor; his armor reflected royal blue, the colors of a true prince of Durin. He turned towards his brother, who was an equally inspiring sight to behold; the golden lion prince stood proud and radiant in the hall of their ancestors. He felt a wave of affection course through him as he gazed upon his dearest kin.

“You look like a king.” He smiled as he gave a slight bow.

“I am no king, nor do I want to be. Bilbo was right, we should have fled this place when we had the chance.” Fili cursed as he sharpened one of his many blades. “Instead we are going to die like dogs defending a worthless treasure. We are going to kill those who we should be allied with- those who have no business dying in a useless war.”

“Fee,” he said softly. “It was not supposed to end this way.”

“I know.” Fili sighed as he placed his hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I wanted to see her again. I thought we would have more time together.” His chest tightened at the thought of his love.

“So did I.” The lion prince murmured, his voice just above a whisper. Kili saw in his brother’s eyes a pain that he had never seen before; a distant longing that he could not place.

“Fili, what is it that plagues you so?” He asked as he searched his brother’s face.

“It’s nothing. I am upset with Thorin. That is all.” His blue eyes were attempting to conceal what was in his heart.

“You cannot lie to me, Fee. I know you as well as I know myself. Who is she?” He said with a knowing look.

“I do not know what you’re talking about.” Fili growled as he quickly turned his back.

“I think you do, brother. If I were to guess, I’d venture it is Bard’s lovely daughter.” He blurted, carefully watching Fili’s reaction to his words.

“Sigrid? What? I mean, no. No! Just drop will you?” The dwarf prince stammered, trying desperately to control his emotions.

“Makes sense if you ask me. She reminds me of you in some ways.” He teased as he brushed years of dust and cobweb from ancient arrows. “Seems we’re not so different after all when it comes to our preferences in women.”

“Will you relent?” Fili cried as playfully pushed his brother over, knocking him backwards and causing him to crash into a pile of discarded armor. Kili jumped up, laughing as he tackled his much shorter kin to the ground. They tussled for a moment before Dwalin lost his patience.

“Ay! You two! Knock it off will you?” The formidable dwarf roared. The siblings helped each other up, Fili reached for Kili’s bow, inspecting it before handing it to its owner.

“Keep your mind focused on fighting. I don’t want to lose you.” Fili said sternly.

“Nor I you. We stay together. We fight together.” He pulled his quiver onto his back, and selected a large sword from the pile.

“Come lads! Thorin needs us now on the rampart.” Gloin called and they departed the armory, prepared for whatever storm was headed their way. Kili felt that with Fili beside him, there was no foe they could not defeat together.


	18. Chapter 18

**The Battle of the Five Armies**

The army before them was vast and immeasurable; the assembly of elves gathered before their gates, determined to lay waste to the mountain. King Thranduil, astride his magnificent elk and Bard atop his white horse, parted through the throngs of warriors as they approached the barricaded gate of Erebor. Two impressive kings in their own right, but a formidable enemy now that they were allies.

Thorin signaled to Kili to fire a lone arrow at the feet of Thranduil’s elk, and the archer did as commanded. “We will put the next one between your eyes!” The dwarf king yelled as his kin cheered.

Thranduil, unmoved by the threat, nodded and the sound of thousands of arrows being nocked pierced the morning air. The dwarves, aside from Thorin, ducked for cover. With a motion of Thranduil’s hand, the elves lowered their weapons, yet still at the ready to defend their king.

“We have come to tell you that payment of your debt has been offered, and accepted.” Thranduil’s voice, deep and arrogant, called out.

“What payment? I gave you nothing.” Thorin shouted. “You have nothing!”

Thranduil smiled at Bard, who then produced a hidden treasure that caused all the dwarves to gasp.

“We have this!” The bowman said plainly as he held the object high in the air.

“They have The Arkenstone! Thieves!” Kili yelled. “How came you by the heirloom of our house? That stone belongs to the King!” His eyes filled with a fierce anger as he lashed out against the invaders.

“The King may have it. With our good will.” Bard said as he returned the stone to his jacket pocket. “But first, he must honor his word.”

“They’re taking us for fools. It is a ruse! A filthy lie. The Arkenstone is in this mountain. It is a trick!” Thorin roared, desperate to believe his own words.

“It’s no trick. The stone is real. I gave it to them.” The gentle voice of his burglar floated into his ears, and Thorin could scarcely believe what he had heard.

The dwarf king turned to face Bilbo, completely gutted by the betrayal. “You?” He breathed in a low whisper, unable to fully process the depth of his grief.

“I took it as my fourteenth share.” Bilbo sighed as he dropped his eyes to the ground, unable to look upon The King.

“You would steal from me?” The ache in Thorin’s voice was palpable now. The other dwarves could do nothing except listen and watch as this heartbreaking scenario played out before them.

“Steal from you? No. I may be a burglar, but I like to think I’m an honest one. I am willing to let it stand against my claim.” The Halfling uttered, regaining his composure.

“Against your claim? Your claim? You have no claim over me!” The dwarf king sneered, approaching the hobbit with a menacing look in his eye.

“I was going to give it to you, many times. But…” Bilbo began. “But you are changed Thorin. The dwarf I met in Bag End would never go back on his word. Would not doubt the loyalty of his kin. You are not yourself. You cannot see what you have become, and that stone would only make things worse.”

“You had no right!” Thorin screamed as he threw down his shield.

“The gold is destroying you and you are letting it happen! I love you, Thorin, but I cannot stand by and do nothing while you slip further into madness.” Tears were streaming down the hobbit’s cheeks as he defended his decision.

“You rat!” The wounded king hissed. He turned his back and a terrible growl that came from deep within him shouted “Throw him from the rampart!” Bilbo, taken aback by the outburst, choked back a sob. He was not expecting his king to behave so violently. None in The Company moved as they stood completely horrified by Thorin’s orders.  

“Do you not here me? Fili!” The dwarf king hollered, pulling on his nephew’s arm, but being met with refusal. “Then I will do it myself!” He leapt towards Bilbo, tearing at his shirt and pulling him closer towards him. Kili attempted to wedge his body between them, hoping to buy the burglar some time to get away. Fili grabbed at his uncle’s shoulder, desperate to keep him from throwing Bilbo over the edge.

A sudden voice echoed through the valley; Gandalf the Grey appeared just in time to startle Thorin as he prepared to hurl the hobbit over the wall. “If you are unhappy with my burglar, then let him go! But do not damage him.” The shock of his words caused the dwarf to release his captive. Bofur pulled the terrified and distraught hobbit away and aided in his escape.

“You’re not making a very splendid figure, Thorin Oakenshield.” Gandalf chided as he watched Bilbo shimmy down a rope ladder and hurry towards him.

“What say you then? Will you have peace or war?” Bard, who had grown tired of trying to reason with the mad king, called up to Thorin, but his eyes were fixed on Fili’s; hoping beyond hope that the younger dwarf could talk some sense into his uncle.

A single raven of Erebor appeared from the hills, he cawed loudly as he approached the tower where the dwarves stood. Thorin looked carefully at the bird before raising his head to stare off into the distance. A rare smile appeared on his face and he looked down at the pair of rulers. “I will have war!” He thundered as a great horn echoed from the hill and the dwarf army lead by Dain Ironfoot descended into view. The Company erupted in cheers at the sight of their kin; fully understanding that now they had the numbers to defend their mountain.

The elves regrouped and readied themselves against the dwarf army; Thranduil prepared to give the order to strike when another horn sounded, this one more ominous than any other. The orc army burst forth from the mountain, running towards them with frightening speed and determination.

The crash of swords, shields and bodies shattering was deafening; the sound of violence and death hung in the air.

“I’m going over the wall! Who’s with me?” Fili cried at the sight of the battle, eager to defend his home.

“You will go nowhere. Come with me.” Thorin said as he grabbed his nephew’s arm.

“Will we not fight?” The golden haired dwarf asked indignantly.

“No. I need everyone below.” Thorin commanded, and all reluctantly followed.

**Thorin**

_The gold. I must protect the gold._ His thoughts were cloudy, but one remained about all others; the horde of light that glittered beneath him in spectacular fashion needed guarding. A voice from far away broke through the haze, distracting him from his task. “Dain is surrounded, his forces will not be able to withstand the orcs for much longer.” He recognized the sound as belonging to Dwalin, but why was he troubling his king with such things? Perhaps he was trying to distract him- yes, distract him so he could steal the gold. Steal his treasure.

“There are caverns deeper still in the mountain. Yes. We must move the gold. Hide it. Keep it protected.” The words left his lips, yet he could swear that they were not his own.

“Did you hear me? Dain is surrounded. He will die. They will all die.” Dwalin’s voice interrupted his thoughts yet again. He did not have time to argue with this lowly dwarf, nor did he care what troublesome news he was rambling about.

“This treasure is worth all the blood we can spend. Life is cheap, but gold- gold is precious. It is precious to me.” _Yes,_ he thought to himself. _Let them die. Their death will mean something as long as these walls are not breached._ “Do as I command! Am I not your king?”

“You’ve always been my king. You used to know that once.” Dwalin’s voice was lower now, nearly defeated.

“Do not speak to me as if I am some lowly dwarf lord! As if I were still Thorin Oakenshield.” He howled.

“You sit here, in these halls with a crown upon your head, but you are lesser now that you have ever been. You cannot see what you have become.” Dwalin shook his head. He was unable to understand the downfall of the man he had fought alongside for ages.

“Get out,” he raged. “Before I kill you.”

He watched him leave, finally alone with his thoughts. He wandered the golden floor, angry with himself for melting part of the treasure in attempt to kill the dragon. _This gold is worth all the lives I can spend._ His eyes, no longer brilliant blue, but dark and filled with fire as the curse had consumed him completely.

He turned when he thought he heard a voice calling to him. “You cannot see what you have become.” Dwalin’s voice echoed back to him through the vast cavern. He spun around, hearing yet another voice: “Do we not matter to you?” Fili’s words filled his head. “Kili nearly died for you and this horrid place!” He stumbled backwards, and closed his eyes: what was happening to him? Now he heard his own voice speaking to him; it was quiet and muffled yet unmistakable: _I am not my grandfather_.

The gold, he thought, the gold must be protected! Yet another voice reached through to him, this one soft and pure, the voice of the one he truly treasured; “You are changed Thorin. The gold is destroying you, and you are letting it happen.” Bilbo’s words thundered inside his head. He heard his own words again; this time loud and clear as they pulsed through him: _I am not my grandfather._

He closed his eyes, allowing the voices to silence as he felt the haze lift from him. He steadied himself, then reached for the crown atop his head only to rip it off and fling it to the ground. “I am not my grandfather.” He repeated aloud to himself. How could he have allowed the dragon sickness to consume him? How did he not see what it was turning him into? There was no time for him to reflect, it was time for him to act and to become the king he was always destined to be; Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror and King Under the Mountain. _I must regain my honor._

**Kili**

He sat with his head in his hands as Dwalin retuned with the news of Thorin’s orders. He was reeling now, unable to stand idly by as Thorin descended into ruin and madness before him. He swallowed hard, remember the day his uncle sat him and Fili down in their mother’s kitchen and asked them to come along on the quest to reclaim Erebor. How excited and proud he had felt to finally be able to prove his worth to his family, to his people. The reality what this quest took from him, from them all, burned inside him and awakened within him a spark of fury. “No,” he thought. “I will not cower inside these walls. I will not sit by and miss my chance at glory, to defend the birthplace of my father.” He resolved to take a stand against his uncle, against his king.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow cast upon the floor; something moved in the golden hall, and was headed in their direction. The figure, illuminated by the glow of torches, majestically emerged from the room and stood before them.

Kili leapt to his feet at the sight of his uncle. “I will not hide behind a wall of stone while others fight our battles for us!” He bellowed as he made his approach. “It is not in my blood Thorin.” His eyes welling and his lip quivering as he shook with emotion.

Thorin looked at him before finally speaking. “No.” He said calmly. “We are Durin’s folk. And Durin’s folk never flee from a fight.” The elder dwarf smiled before pulling Kili’s forehead against his own. Relief and pride coursed through him as he struggled to maintain his composure: his uncle, The King, had returned.

“I have no right to ask any of you this, but will you follow me one last time?” Thorin’s voice was low and filled with remorse as he addressed The Company. Immediately the dwarves of Erebor stood and gathered their weapons; prepared to make a final stand, prepared to defend their home.

Outside the mountain, all believed the battle lost, all sensed the end was near. Suddenly, the wail of a horn soared through the valley. Nothing moved as the sound of the House of Durin filled the air. The crash of rock breaking pulled the weary fighters to their feet, the pounding of footsteps gave them the strength to lift their shields and the sight of The King gave them the courage to raise their swords. “To The King!” Dain screamed as he ran behind Thorin. “To The King!”

 _“To arms!”_ Thorin Oakenshield roared as he sliced through the front line of orcs, ferociously attacking any who dared to come near.

“Thorin! What took you so long?” Dain hollered as he made his way towards his cousin. The pair embraced upon the battlefield, surrounded by orc corpses. “They’ve got us surrounded. We’ll not last much longer.”

“I have a plan.” Thorin said. “I’m going to take out their leader. I’m going to kill that filth.”

He assembled Fili, Kili and Dwalin and they rode up the side of Ravenhill in their final attempt to kill Azog. They would make their final stand in defense of all the held dear. In the city of Dale, one small hobbit cried out as he watched the four warriors ascend the hill.

**Tauriel**

The city of Dale appeared on the horizon, and she felt her heart begin to race with anticipation. _“Faster, Mellon.”_ She pleaded to Legolas.

“ _We will be there soon. I believe we outran them. We…”_ His words failed him as they came upon Dale under attack from an orc army. The battle had begun.

“ _No.”_ She gasped, her eyes wide in terror.

They raced into the city to find Gandalf battling several orcs, Legolas struck them down with ease as he beckoned to the wizard. “Bolg commands a second orc army coming from Gundabad. They mean to cut us off.” His sword swinging as he relayed the news.

“Gundabad?” Gandalf repeated; his voice filled with dread and fear.

“They will be upon Ravenhill soon.” Legolas said as he surveyed Laketown.

“Ravenhill?” Bilbo gasped. “That’s where Thorin is- and Fili and Kili! They’re walking into a trap!” His eyes frantic and his voice breaking over the revelation.

Gandalf ran off, determined to find King Thranduil and convince him to defend Ravenhill. She stared at Bilbo; who was this small creature and why was he so concerned with the dwarves? She needed to find a way to reach Kili, to warn him about the terrible danger he was facing. But first, she needed to find help.

“Thranduil, rally your forces and send word to Ravenhill. The dwarves must be warned!” She heard the plea of Gandalf as he beseeched the Elven King.

“Then by all means, warn them. I have spent enough elven blood defending these accursed lands.” Thranduil argued, turning his back to the wizard and beckoning to his commander: “Recall your forces.”

They were leaving. For the second time in an age, he was turning his back and leaving the dwarves to a terrible fate. She could not abide, she would not abide; she needed to make him change his mind, one way or another.

 

“ _You will go no further._ You will not turn away. Not this time.” She stood blocking the path, refusing to back down.

“Get out of my way.” Thranduil growled as he approached her.

“The dwarves will be slaughtered.” She cried.

“Yes they will die. Today, tomorrow, one year hence, a hundred years from now. What does it matter? They are mortal.” His voice, low and raspy echoed through the halls.

“Do you think your life is worth more than theirs when there is no love in it? There is no love in you.” She drew an arrow and aimed it at straight at her king. Her resolve was strong and her voice hard.

He drew his sword and sliced her bow in half before her bewildered eyes. “What do you know of love? Nothing! What you feel for that dwarf is not real. You think it is love? Are you ready to die for it?” He roared as he aimed his blade at her heart.

Her eyes grew wide, her breath quickened as she stood defenseless against The Elven King. She swallowed, remembering her last conversation with Kili, and his words rose in her throat. “I know how I feel. I am not afraid. If I am to die today, then I will die at his side. Turn away, go back and hide in your palace, King Thranduil. Go and pretend that evil is not upon you, but know this, death will find you. It will come for you. And you, my king, will be utterly and completely alone at the end.” She grit her teeth in spite as she spat her indignant words.

Thranduil stood appalled, his eyes wild and lips parted as an expression of utter horror lay fixed upon his face. “You are banished. If ever I look upon you again, I will end you.” His expression still feral as he gasped for breath, furious and wounded, he raised his sword once more and pointed it at her. She held her breath as they remained frozen, a dangerous pair locked in a deadly power struggle. A clang of a swords clashing rang in her ears; she watched as her dearest kin defied his own father in her defense.

“ _If you harm her, you will have to kill me.”_ Legolas growled. Thranduil’s expression would forever be burned into her memory; the once mighty King of the Woodland Realm, now completely broken and defeated.

“I will go with you.” Legolas said softly and she turned and ran towards Ravenhill, not once looking back.


	19. Chapter 19

**Kili**

They easily killed the few remaining orc soldiers who remained at the crest of the hill, yet there was no sign of Azog. An eerie silence descended upon them made all the more ominous by the thick, heavy fog that blanketed the ruins, obscuring their vision. He listened, as his hearing had always been sharp, for the tell-tale sound of orc footsteps. But there was nothing, not even the crash of the battle below them was distinguishable. A sudden chill came over him, causing a catch in his throat. "Something is wrong." He whispered to Fili.

"Perhaps Azog has fled." Fili said calmly.

"No," Thorin replied as he scanned the horizon for moving shadows. "He is here."

"We need to draw him out, get him out in the open." Dwalin grumbled as he pulled his axe from an orc corpse.

"Kili and I will go scout out the caves." Fili schemed as he nodded to Thorin who seemed unconvinced.

Thorin's gaze was far away and his face awash with uncertainty. "Go, and stay hidden." He said finally as his brow furrowed.

They were about to disappear into the mist when a strange sound caused him to pause; he could have sworn he heard a voice calling to him. "Did- did you hear that?" He asked as he grabbed Fili's arm. "Shhh…" he signaled. "There it is again!"

"Kee, what is it?" Fili whispered. He knew better than to doubt his brother, as his keen senses had saved them both more than once.

"I can't make it out yet." Something inside was urging him to wait; to listen, to be patient. His heart was holding him steadfast to the ground, keeping him frozen in place. He held his breath. This time he closed his eyes and focused solely on where he believed the sound originated from. He heard rocks and earth being displaced as several bodies charged towards them. He could tell they were not orcs; the footsteps were light and graceful, and much too quick. The footsteps moved almost as one, in sync with the other. "Elves." He said as he exhaled and opened his eyes.

"What is it Kili? What do you hear?" Thorin, who was now keenly aware of his nephew's distress, asked as he drew his sword.

Kili put his hand on his uncle's sword, letting him know that what approached them was no threat. Then he heard it again. But this time, a huge grin erupted on his face; he knew exactly who belonged to the voice that was calling to him.

**Tauriel**

"Kili!" She wailed as she ran. She had to get there in time. She had to warm him about the terrible danger they were walking into before it was too late. "Faster" she told herself as they headed up the hill, kicking up dirt as they sailed over the crumbling earth. The covering of fog made it impossible for her to see what lay ahead. "Kili!" She yelled out again. "Please," she thought. "Please let him be alive." Her own heartbeat echoed loudly in her ears as she prayed. She screamed as loud as she could manage; allowing the utter desperation in her voice to resonate as she called to him. "Kili!" She called again, panic stricken and terrified as she neared the crest of the hill. Then she heard it, a sound that silenced the beating of her heart.

"Tauriel!" He shouted, running towards the sound of her voice.

She tore across the ruins, her feet barely touching the ground as she ran to him. "Kili! You must get away from here! Now! They are coming for you, it's a trap!" She could hardly breathe as she collapsed into his awaiting arms.

"A trap?" His voice wavered as he looked into her terrified eyes.

"You must go." She tried to steady her breathing. She slipped her fingers between his, relieved to see him once more.

"Azog sends a second orc army from Gundabad to ambush you. They are coming." Legolas called out as he reached the summit.

"Kili? What is the meaning of this?" Thorin gasped at the sight of his nephew cradling an elf in his arms.

She stood up as the dwarf lord approached. "Thorin, there is an orc army approaching you from the North. You need to leave now, this is a trap." Her voice was strong and proud as she spoke, her hand remained locked with Kili's.

Thorin's eyes grew large and filled with anger at the sight of his kin and the elf. His face flushed red and he was hardly able to speak. "Kili, get away from that creature now. We will deal with this later."

"I will not Uncle. We need to listen to Tauriel." Kili stood defiantly as Fili rushed to his side, prepared to defend his brother.

"Why should I listen to this elf?" Thorin sneered, shaking his head fiercely."

"Because she speaks the truth! Thorin, please." Bilbo cried, pleading and panting as he appeared in front of the dwarf.

"Bilbo? How did you get here?" The King was startled by his sudden appearance. Soon a smile overtook his face as he raced towards the hobbit, embracing him tightly. "I, I am so sorry for the way I…"

"There is no time! They are coming." The burglar cried as he pulled away from Thorin.

"Oakenshield!" A terrible voice cried out; Azog the Defiler appeared on a cliff, high overhead. "You have come here to die. I will kill that one first," he yelled as he pointed his sword arm at Fili. "Then the brother. Then finally you, Oakenshield. Your filthy bloodline ends today." He roared as his army of orcs began descending from their perch, racing towards them. It was too late.

"Kili! Shoot him!" Thorin yelled, but the Pale Orc disappeared back into the fog. "This ends now." He hollered.

Orcs began to pour from the dense fog and with them they unleashed their brutal attack. Thorin raced through the pack to confront Azog where he stood among the ruins, with Fili chasing after him.

Fili turned the corner and nearly crashed into the hulking killer known as Bolg, the vile spawn of Azog. The looming orc swung his heavy weapon at the dwarf prince, but Fili managed to jump out of the way. The orc swung again, this time his weapon clashed against Fili's swords; the deafening sound alerted Kili, who raced towards his brother. They aligned themselves side by side; prepared to die defending the other.

She watched him go and her eyes grew wide at the sight of their terrible foe. She could not allow them to face Blog alone. She made short work of the orcs surrounding her, and slashed her way over to where the dwarf brothers battled.

Bolg swung violently at them with his heavy mace, hitting Kili in the ribs; causing his bow to fall onto the ground. Grasping his side, he gasped for air before standing again to face the orc. Fili jumped in front of his brother, shielding him from a second blow and taking the full force of the impact. Dazed, he did his best to maneuver out of the way, but could not dodge Bolg's fist as it connected with his temple, causing him to fall unconscious. Bolg lifted his weapon, revealing the end was a pointed blade and prepared to drive it into Fili. Kili raised his sword in defense of his brother; swinging wildly and for his efforts, he managed to slash into the orc's left leg. Bolg released a frightening roar upon the injury, and took a step backwards. Kili used the moment of distraction to drag Fili out of the way, and stood, with sword drawn, between his kin and the orc.

Bolg grinned at the sight of Fili lying on the ground, "After I kill that one, you're next." He sneered. Kili swung at the monster, desperate to keep him from reaching his brother. "You'll not touch him!" She screamed as she leapt onto the orc's back; attempting to stab him with her long, curved blade. He grabbed ahold of her arm, and wrenched it hard as he pulled her off his back. He raised his large hand and backhanded her across the face, knocking her onto her knees. Bolg grabbed her by the neck and lifted her high into the air before throwing her into a stone wall. The impact sent intense waves of anguish throughout her body and she could scarcely move. Struggling for breath, she looked up at the giant orc, accepting what was surely coming next. Kili lunged at him; slicing the orc's stomach, opening the skin and spilling foul black blood onto the stone floor. Bolg pointed the spear end of his mace straight at Kili, and with a look of ferocious anger, he snarled "Now you die." The dwarf and the orc lifted their weapons once more, poised for battle, and Bolg unleashed his terrible wrath. Kili deflected the fury of blows, one after the next until the last one knocked the blade from him hand. Bolg kicked the dwarf in the chest, knocking him on his back, defenseless and injured.

She watched as he fell; broken and battered, and knew that if the orc succeeded in striking him, he would surely die. She lifted his bow from where it lay upon the ground, and drawing one of her own arrows, nocked it against the heavy string. She used all the strength she could muster to draw back upon his weapon, her arm shaking under the strain as she released the arrow. It hit Bolg in the back, he cried out and whipped around to face her. "That's right," she thought. "Come and get me." Bolg glared at her for a moment, then he turned back to Kili, prepared to deliver a death blow. She fired again, this time the arrow tore through the flesh on his massive arm, before settling into bone, causing his mace to fall. The giant orc pulled the offending arrow from his wound, examining it before thrusting it straight through Kili's chest.

She screamed. Kili's eyes were wide, his breaths shallow and uneven. Bolg stood grinning as he watched the dwarf's life slipping away, unaware of what crept behind him. Fili drove his sword through the orc's back, piercing through his chest, causing his to drop to his knees. Blood began to trickle from his mouth, staining his teeth and running down his chin. He spit then began to laugh. "My father will kill you. He will bathe the earth in your blood. He will…" He did not have the chance to finish, as Fili, holding the boning knife from Sigrid in his hand, drove it straight into Bolg's good eye; killing the orc instantly.

They wasted no time in racing to Kili's side, frantically trying to stop the blood that was pouring from him. She collapsed at his side; using her knife, she sliced the shaft of the arrow. "Quick, help me turn him!" Fili pulled Kili on to his side, causing the injured dwarf to cry out. She felt for the point of the arrow and in one swift motion, pulled it from his back. She and Fili exchanged terrified glances. She tore away at her dress, pushing the fabric into the wound in attempt to quell the bleeding. They gently rolled him onto his back once more.

"Fee," he gasped. "Please.."

"Don't talk, just lie still. It's going to be alright." Fili cradled his brother's head in his lap, softly sweeping back his dark hair that matted against his cheek.

"I am sorry, my brother. I did not want it to end this way. You will make a wonderful king, and I wish I could have seen those days come to pass. Please look after Tauriel." Kili coughed between breaths, fighting to keep his eyes focused on his beloved kin.

"I promise I will. But Kee, please stay with me. I can't lose you. I need you." Fili begged through choking sobs.

"It will be alright. Tell mum…" a tear slipped from his eye. "That I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise. Tell her that I am going to our father." He whispered in khuzdul, a faint smile dimpling his cheek. Fili, his face wracked with grief, nodded as he bent down and pressed his forehead to Kili's.

"Tauriel." His voice breaking as he struggled for words.

"I'm here my love, I'm right here." Tears streamed from her eyes as she picked up his hand. She laced her fingers between his once more.

"Tauriel, I love you. I…love you." His voice catching, his fingers tightening around hers.

"And I love you." She leaned over and kissed him gently, brushing her nose against his before parting.

"I would have spent all my days with you, amralime." He whispered. "Tauriel…" His eyes rolled back and his body went limp, his chest heaved and then collapsed. His final breath slipped from his lips.

"Kili! No! Please no!" Her body shook with grief, her words stifled between breathless sobs. "Please come back to me. I love you. This cannot be the end." She gently kissed his fingertips before cupping her face with his hand.

Fili, his head bowed as tears fell from his eyes, continued to stroke his brother's hair as he unleashed a wail that left her shuddering. She hadn't the heart to look at him. For a while, neither of them spoke. Thorin came upon them, as did the hobbit, Dwalin and eventually, Legolas. Thorin, bereft in his grief, screamed out in rage and despair over the loss of his nephew.

She sat beside his lifeless body, unable to bear the thought of leaving him. She closed her eyes and felt a warmth rush through her: starting in heart and spreading throughout her body. A curious sensation it was; unlike anything she had ever felt before, and while she was still wracked with anguish, she felt a calm come over her. With each breath she drew in, the warmth filled her with a sense of peace, until her thoughts were quiet. "I know what I must do." She said as her eyes opened, finding Legolas immediately. He grimaced at her, knowing her decision.

"What are you going to do?" Fili asked, his voice hoarse from crying.

"She is going to give up her life in order to join him in death." King Thranduil stepped out from the cavernous ruins, he looked upon her as she prepared herself for what was to come. "Tauriel," he whispered. "You do not have to do this."

"It is my choice." She said softly. "I accept whatever fate awaits me."

"All will be lost to you; your people, Vailnor, Legolas will be lost to you." The King pleaded. "The pain of the dwarf's death will lessen with time. Return to Mirkwood, come back home." His eyes echoed a terrible sorrow within him, one she did not fully understand.

"You believe the pain will lessen with time? Has your own pain dimmed? I know what I must do. I'm not afraid. Goodbye, My Lord." She bowed her head and felt the touch of his fingers upon her cheek. She gasped at his gentle show of affection.

Legolas was standing beside the body of her fallen love; tears brimming in his eyes as she took his hands into her own. "Do not weep for me," she sighed. "I am grateful to have had such a dear friend." She tightened her grip on his fingers and looked into his eyes one last time.

"I do not know how to say goodbye." He could hardly speak.

"Go out into the world. Do not shut yourself away. Find your own happiness and find love." She cooed.

"Tauriel. I promised him I would look after you." Fili's soft voice pleaded with her.

"I'm sorry Fili. Everything will be now as it should. I thank you for everything." She smiled as she placed her hand atop his golden head. "I am ready." She said aloud; her voice strong and brave.

She bent down beside Kili's body and placed her hand atop his heart. She took his hand into hers and pressed it against her lips. "I love you." She whispered. "We will be together soon." She closed her eyes and began her final prayer:

"Mahal, please hear my words, please hear the plea of this unworthy creature who comes before you. This soul who lies cold upon the ground, the one who gave his life for mine, is dear to me. He is mine and I am his. I bind my fate to his. I would have lived my life by his side, but now, I know I cannot face the ages without him. I know with all certainly, where he is, is where I belong. If our love is pure and true, then by what grace lies within me, I offer it to you. I offer it freely, without hesitation or fear, I offer it to you so that I may rest where he rests; so we may reunite in your halls. I give you my life, if you will have it, so that in my death, he and I can be together. I relinquish the long years of my life, the treasured immortality of my people, if you will but grant me this one request."

The strange heat returned, and flowed through her once more. An ethereal glow surrounded her; emanating from her small spark within her chest and growing quickly, encompassing both her and Kili. The light, spectacular and blinding, shrouded all who stood to behold, before fading like the setting sun. She felt the grace inside her dim; her limbs grew cold, her breath fading as her essence left her body. She bent down one final time over Kili and placed her lips upon his, one final kiss goodbye. "I love you, Kili." She whispered before collapsing in a heap next to him; their fingers still entwined, her hair splayed out over his. She closed her eyes, knowing the end was drawing near, and squeezed his hand to keep her courage. Before she drifted off, she swore she felt his hand squeeze back.


	20. Chapter 20

**Fili**

He could not move. He watched the light dim from her and his body was once again wracked with sorrow. He felt Thorin place his hand upon his shoulder, offering his comfort and solidarity, but nothing could bring him solace anymore.

“I failed him.” He whispered. “It should have been me. It should have been…” His voice trailed as a wave of grief poured from him.

“I failed you both.” Thorin said while wrapping his arms around his nephew. “I am so sorry, Fili.”

The rest of The Company arrived to bear witness to their fallen companion, as did Gandalf. He could hear King Thranduil and Legolas conversing in their elven language, but he cared not for their conversation. He did not notice that both elves had slipped quietly away. There was nothing besides the terrible ache in his chest and the sharp reality of spending his life without his brother.

“What am I to do now? How am I to go on without you?” He sighed as he stroked the long, dark locks of Kili’s hair. “I have lost both my brother and a sister. I would have done anything to see you happy together.” He placed his hand upon Tauriel’s forehead, confused by the warmth of her skin.

“It is time to bring him home, Fili. We will honor him, give him a proper funeral. He shall pass into legend.” Thorin’s voice broke; he could not maintain his composure any longer.

“And what of Tauriel? Will you permit her to be buried alongside of him?” He could not defend his brother in life, but he would make damn sure he protected their love in death.

“She is not our kind. You know this.” Thorin scratched his head, contemplating what he was to do about the elf.

“Even now, as Kili lay dead, you cannot see past your own petty hate. She saved his life in Laketown. Did you know that? She used her magic to draw out the morgul poison, he was moments away from death and she saved him. Kili loved her, he knew you would not approve, that he stood to lose everything, but he loved her anyway. He died defending her- and me.” He yelled, his frustration leaving him shaking and weeping. “Have you no heart, Uncle?”

Thorin took a step back, searching for the words to justify himself, but none would come. The Dwarf King opened his mouth, poised to speak, when a soft moan caught his attention.

He jerked his head towards the sound, then back to Thorin. “Did you hear that?” He swallowed hard, frightened of permitting himself to hope. “Kee?” He whimpered as he bent down beside his brother.

“Fili, do not do this to yourself. He is gone and the dead cannot come back to us.” Thorin pleaded.

He placed his hand upon Kili’s chest. His own heart leapt into his throat as he tried to understand what his own fingers has just felt. He drew his hand back, stared at it, before placing it on his brother once more. There was no denying what he felt; the beating of a willing heart, followed by an impossible breath, then another and another. Fili’s eyes were wild as he looked up at Thorin. “He’s alive.” He gasped.

“That’s not possible.” Thorin shook his head in disbelief. He immediately dropped to his knees and placed his ear to the dwarf’s chest as he listened for what he knew to be impossible, yet there it was; the steady beat of Kili’s young and reckless heart. His eyes grew wide as he listened, he looked up at Fili and nodded. “He is alive.”

He set his hand upon Tauriel’s neck, and felt the pulse of blood as it coursed through her body. “They are both alive.” He cried aloud.

“How is this possible?” Bilbo asked as he raced over to Thorin’s side.

“How indeed.” Gandalf muttered as he stood over the fallen lovers. “Very curious.” He muttered to himself.

“Dori!” Thorin shouted. “Bring Kili down the hill. Take him to Erebor.”

“Yes, my King! It would be my honor.” Dori, wiping away his tears, said as he began to gently lift the dwarf into his arms. Kili’s hand continued to hold fast to Tauriel’s, Dori carefully separated their fingers as he whispered silent apologies.

“Bofur, will you help me with Tauriel?” He asked as he began to move the elf.

“No, Fili. Go with your brother.” Thorin said.

“Thorin, we cannot leave her.” He shook his head defiantly.

“Fili, go.” The King placed his hand upon his shoulder once more. “It will be alright. Tend to your brother.”

He hadn’t the energy to argue, for his head was still spinning from the crushing blow Bolg had delivered. He silently followed Dori and the rest of The Company down the hill. As the sun began to set, he looked back at Ravenhill and he could scarcely believe what he saw; Thorin, injured and battle weary, cradling Tauriel in his arms as he descended the hill towards Erebor with Bilbo and Gandalf in tow. The trio appeared to be deep in conversation, upon Thorin’s face a look of concern. What could they be talking about?

Dori placed Kili upon the table, taking care not to further injure him, and they all gathered around and watched him as his chest rose and fell in steady rhythm.

“Are you sure he was dead? Maybe we was just sleeping or unconscious.” Ori said finally, after many moments of strained silence.

“I held him as he took his last breath. I felt his spirit leave him. Had I not witnessed it with my own eyes, I would not believe it either.” His tone was serious.

“Maybe she used her magic again, like when we were in Bard’s home.” Bofur suggested.

“This was different. Here, help me remove his armor.” They gently pulled away his armor and most of his clothing to reveal a most gruesome sight; he had indeed been completely gored by the arrow, and his wound was most certainly fatal.

Oin looked him over again, pawing at the grotesque injury. “Get me some water, fetch me my herbs and locate a needle and thread. I don’t know how the lad is still breathing, but he won’t be for much longer if we don’t tend to this properly.”

Gandalf, alongside Thorin and Bilbo entered the room after the hour had grown late. They placed Tauriel on the table beside Kili. The poor hobbit nearly fainted at the sight of the terrible open wound, and Thorin’s face went deathly pale.

“Send a raven to Rivendell and to Lothlorien tonight. This is most beyond my understanding.” Gandalf’s usually docile demeanor was replaced by fervent urgency as he commanded the dwarves. “Balin, bring me the oldest texts and manuscripts you can find in your library. And someone summon King Thranduil!”  

The dwarves stared at Thorin as Gandalf mentioned Thranduil; certainly he would never allow his most hated adversary into their hallowed halls. Thorin displayed no emotion, only nodded to Bilbo, alerting the hobbit that the task of summoning the Elven King had fallen to him.

Whatever strange magic had occurred atop the hill was of no concern to him. Unlike Gandalf, he needed no explanation as to why his brother had returned to life, only that he was given a second chance. He had Kili back. It mattered not how or why. He stood guard as Oin cleaned and tended to the wound. Despite his own injuries, he refused to rest until Oin was finished with Kili.

“Let me have a look at that hard head of yours, laddie.” Oin called to him. “That’s some nasty bruise you have there.”

“I’m fine. Just take care of Kili.” He shrugged off the elder dwarf’s pawning.

“He needs to rest, as do you. Now stop grumbling and sit your stubborn ass down.” Oin grumbled.

“That hurts!” He cried as Oin pressed against the side Bolg hit.

“I imagine it does. You’re going to have a nasty headache tomorrow. Here, drink this. It will help with the bruising.” Oin said as he thrust a mug with sweet smelling tea at him. “You should rest too.”

“I can’t rest, what if…” A sudden fear gripped him as he clenched his hands tightly around the mug.

“He will be alright, I’m sure of it. Look at how quickly he has started to heal. Kili was returned to us, whether by some miracle or magic or godly interference, and I do not think that he was brought back just for him to die again tonight.” Oin’s voice was comforting, causing the pit in his stomach to release.

Ori appeared in the doorway, in his hands a large pile of quilts and bedding. “I found some blankets. It gets quite cold at night.”

“Thank you, Ori. Can you help me spread a few out on the table? I can’t imagine lying on a cold, hard table feels too comfortable.” He smiled at the young dwarf. “I’ll lift Kili if you could spread the blanket under him. Ready?” He hoisted his brother up as Ori scrambled quickly to lay one of the quilts under him.

“I can lift her, if you’d like. She doesn’t look too heavy.” Ori’s face turned scarlet.

“You ready?” He smoothed the quilt along the table and Ori gently placed Tauriel down once more.

“I can see why he loves her. She’s very pretty.” The blush had returned to Ori’s face as he spoke. “I should probably see if Dori needs my help.” He ran off without saying another word.

He watched them as they lie unconscious beside each other, remembering the night he saw them huddled together in Bard’s home. “I will keep my promise. I will look after you, both of you and I will defend your love always.” He vowed, placing their hands together once more; enjoying the sight of their fingers lacing in a familiar fashion. A tiny scar on Kili’s chest caught his attention; he did not remember seeing that before. He peered in closer. It wasn’t exactly a scar, more of a birthmark. He had seen enough of Kili before to know that this was newly acquired. “Strange.” He muttered as he pulled the blanket around his shoulders, kissed his forehead and whispered softly in Khuzdul: “ _Rest now. I love you, my dear brother. My precious gift.”_


	21. Chapter 21

**Sigrid**

Her father had commanded her to barricade themselves in the Great Hall, and while she followed his order, she was terrified of what was happening outside the gate. She listened for any sign that the battle was over, but heard only the clashing of weapons and the screams of the dying. Tilda sat nestled in her lap, she stroked her hair to comfort her as the poor child trembled in fear.

“I should be fighting beside Da. Not hiding in here.” Bain grumbled as he kicked a clump of grass.

“You’re not hiding, Bain. You’re doing as Da ordered. He wants to keep you safe.” She did her best to soothe her brother.

“I am not a child, Sigrid! I can fight.” He yelled, lashing out at her and catching her by surprise.

“Of course you’re not a child. But if something were to happen to Father, you would be all Tilda and I have left. We need you, Bain.” She reached for her brother’s hand, and pulled him close. “We need each other.”

A large thud at the door sent them all dashing for a means to defend themselves; Bain grabbed his sword, Tilda a small rake and she an old metal pot. The gate rattled again, but this time it was accompanied by a voice.

“You can come out now children, the war is over.” Bard called to them.

“It’s Da! Sigrid, open the door!” Tilda squealed as she leapt up and down.

She and Bain pulled away the stick and tore open the doors. The sun was setting in the sky, and she had to shield her eyes from its glare, but there in the last light of day, stood their father. He dropped to his knees, arms outstretched as they ran to him. They embraced tightly, none willing to let go.

“Da, what has become of the city?” Bain asked.

“There is much rebuilding to be done, but we will get there.” Bard said as he ruffled his son’s hair.

“Any word from Erebor? Did the dwarves survive the war?” She could scarcely disguise the terror in her voice.

“Nothing yet.” He said shaking his head.

They heard a commotion coming from the marketplace, followed by shouting and people scattering.

“My Lord Bard, there is a monstrous beast running through the marketplace!” One of Laketown’s residents cried as she ran through the streets.

“Children, get back in the Great Hall!” Bard shouted as he reached for his bow, running towards the chaos.

“Da might need my help.” Bain called as he chased after his father.

“Bain!” She called out in vain. “I let him get away once, it’s not happening again.” She grabbed ahold of Tilda’s hand and ran after them.

She heard Alfrid’s shrill cries coming from inside, and the sound of something thrashing around. Bard carefully entered the marketplace, and rubbed his eyes as they adjusted to the lack of light. “I thought I told you to go into the Great Hall! You shouldn’t be here!” He argued to no avail.

A loud and deep grunt echoed through the cavernous hall, followed by another of Alfrid’s shrieks. By now, several other men had charged in, weapons drawn as they ran towards the enormous creature.

Bard squinted his eyes and then called out loudly, “Wait! Stop!” He darted towards the beast, shielding it from the villagers. “I said yield!” All stopped moving at his command, and slowly lowered their weapons. “You,” he said as he pointed to one of the men. “Go and light a fire in the old smithy shop to keep the women and children warm.”

“Yes, my Lord.” He replied, dashing from the marketplace.

“You three, go and tend to the wounded. Gather as many able bodies as you can to help.” The remaining men departed at his order.

“Sire, the monster! Get out of here, be gone you monster!” Alfrid yelled as he hid behind Bard.

“It’s alright! Go now, you’re scaring him!” Bard quipped.

“Yeah, you awful thing go away! You’re scaring me…I mean the children!” Alfrid stuttered as waved he waved his arms in exaggerated terror.

“Not you! You’re scaring him.” Bard called, pointing to the hidden creature. “Go now!” Alfrid ran off, mumbling as he left.

She watched as her father lowered his arms, and began to speak softly and slowly to the behemoth hiding in the shadows. “Come now, you’re safe, we’re not going to hurt you. Remember me? It’s alright, you can come out.” He held out his hand, and waited.

“Da?” She whispered. “What is it?”  

She could scarcely believe what emerged gracefully from his hiding place; King Thranduil’s magnificent giant elk. She heard both Bain and Tilda gasp at the sight of him.

“Do not be afraid children. He’s probably more afraid of us than we are of him.” He smiled as the elk lowered his head, sniffing his hand as he beheld him with his large, deep black eyes. Bard rested his hand against the elk’s snout. “Here Sigrid, put your hand out flat and allow him to take in your scent.”

She did as her father told her, and gently stroked the great elk’s snout, humming to him as she tried to comfort the great beast. Tilda joined her as did eventually Bain.

“You’re Erynion, that’s your name right?” Bard murmured as he scratched behind the elk’s ear, causing him to produce a loud grunt in approval.

“How do you know his name, Da?” She asked as she scratched behind the other ear. The great elk closed his eyes as he enjoyed the attention.

“King Thranduil told me before the battle. Children, this is Erynion, Lord of the Elks. King Thranduil said they have been companions for centuries.” Bard smiled at elk who twitched his ears at the mention of his friend.

“He’s so beautiful.” She said as she touched her cheek to the elk’s great snout.

“He is, isn’t he?” Her father’s gaze seemed far away, and she wondered if he was referring to Erynion or to Thranduil.

“Oh no Da! He’s hurt!” Tilda cried, pointing to an arrow still embedded in his body, her eyes brimmed with tears.

Bard dropped to his knees to examine the injury; his face contorted in a worried expression. “Sigrid. Tilda. Go find me some clean water and something I can use to stop the bleeding. Bain, let me have your knife please. Go girls, be quick!”

They ran through the city and located what their father required. Sigrid brought two lanterns as well as some of the leafy greens rationed to her family. They returned with as much speed as they could muster. Their father had found a large tapestry for Erynion to lie down upon.

“Da! Is he going to be alright?” Tilda wept as she put her arms around Erynion’s great neck, burying her face into his course fur.

“Ay, love. But this will probably hurt him. I’m sorry my friend, this might sting, but I need to remove it if we’re to get you home.” Bard loving stroked the elk’s side. “Tilda, please step back.” He took Bain’s knife and inserted into the elk’s skin, just below the wound and tried to pry the tip of the arrow out. Erynion let out a soft whimper, causing tears to fill her own eyes. “Shhh, I’m almost done. I know, this hurts. You’ll feel much better once I get this cursed arrow out. There! Got it!” He cheered as he tossed the arrow to the ground. He reached for the strip of fabric and soaking it in the water, pressed it against the wound.

“Are you still hurt?” Tilda cooed as she threw her arms around the elk once more. Erynion nuzzled her back to let her know that he appreciated her kindness. “Please can we keep him, Da?” Tilda begged.

“We cannot keep such a majestic creature, my sweet girl. Besides, if he keep him from King Thranduil, he will get lonely.” Bard hoisted Tilda into his arms and pulled her close to his chest.

“I think he’ scary.” She said meekly.

“Erynion?” Bard joked with the little girl.

“No! He’s lovely! King Thranduil is scary!” Tilda whispered as she clung tighter to her father.

“Oh my love, he’s not scary! How can you say such things?” Bard laughed deeply at her remark.

“Yes he is, Da! He’s so tall and mean looking. He acts so serious and he dresses so fancy.” Tilda chirped as she jumped down from her father. She paraded around, standing up extra straight and frowning severely.

“He does not look like that! Do you think he looks like that, Erynion?” Bard, still chuckling, turned to the elk for support.

“Well, he does look so stern and serious.” Bain said as he tugged at jacket sleeve.

“And he does dress so fancy. You cannot deny that, Da.” She giggled as she pretended to be the elven king: sweeping about the room in grand fashion.

“That’s just because you don’t know him well enough yet. You know what I see? I see a mighty king; someone who values the lives of his subjects. He is serious because he has probably seen many terrible things in his years. He is tall, my love, because all elves are tall. He dresses quite fancy because he is a king, and kings are supposed to dress regal.” Bard sighed as he patted Tilda’s head.

“Will you dress like that now that you’re king, Da?” The little girl asked sweetly.

“I am not a king. But no, I will not dress quite so… impressively.” Bard smiled as he reached over and touched Erynion’s chest.

“Da, you should take him back to King Thranduil.” She said finally, unwilling to say goodbye to the spectacular elk.

“I know. Bain, take your sisters back to the Great Hall and find something to eat. Get some rest my darlings. Say goodbye now, let’s take you home.” Bard gently urged Erynion back on his hooves and he took ahold of the reins. Bard hoisted Tilda onto his shoulders as the little girl gave the elk a kiss goodbye. Erynion, not to be outdone, sniffed at her hair. She giggled and hugged his giant snout before being place back on the ground. “I shouldn’t be too long, but do not wait up for me.” He urged.

“Do not hurry back, Da. We will be just fine.” She grinned. As her father turned to leave, she could have sworn she caught him blushing.

 

**Thranduil**

He made his way down from the ruins on the hill, back into the confines of his private encampment. The events of the day had left him shaking and utterly spent. He dismissed his guards as he needed to be alone with his thoughts, his memories and his grief. He tried to pour himself a glass of wine, but seeing his own hands, bloodstained and battered, caused him to fumble with the glass and spill the contents over the table.

Images of the dead exploded violently in his mind; flashes of corpse after corpse staring up at him with their dead eyes caused him to lose his balance and fall upon the ground. He could no longer fight back the flood of emotions that had built up inside of him for years, and for the first time in an age, he allowed himself to truly feel. Tears burned his eyes as they streamed down, mixing with the blood still splattered across his cheeks.

He had mocked her, insulted her and cast her out. Now she was gone. Her words echoed through his mind “ _There is no love in you.”_ How could she say such things? She could never have known that he had felt the same warm glow burning inside of him once before; that he had contemplated making the same decision she had made as the one he loved lay dead at his feet. But she could not have known the depth of his pain. How could any of them have known? There was too much love in him, and for that, he suffered greatly.

He had seen war before and had known the agony of loss, and he had hoped to spare his only son from the pain of watching a loved one die. He wanted to shield Legolas from the bitter sting of death and eternal torment of grief. In trying to protect his son, he only managed to alienate; to push him away when all he wanted was to hold him close and keep him safe. Perhaps if he had told him about his mother, but the words never came as his ache for her was still too great. That he could not speak her name, even after so many years, for fear that the sadness would overtake him; claiming his life as it almost had once before. There was so much regret in him now. So much he wished he could change, so much he would undo if only he could go back. _“What is done cannot be undone. I wish you were here, my love. I need your courage, your strength. I have none left to give. I have nothing left.”_ He prayed silently.

Perhaps he was meant to die alone, as Tauriel had said to him in spite. Alone and humbled, as he was in this moment. He had fought it before; willed himself back from the brink of despair for one reason only, and now that reason was riding North in search of a ranger. _“I may never look upon my son again.”_ He thought as his limbs began to feel strangely cold and he began to tremble. He looked upon his bloodstained hands again and whimpered softly as he felt the life beginning to drain out of him. He no longer had a reason to stay, there was nothing holding him to the realm of the living any longer. Perhaps it was time to be at peace.

“My Lord Thranduil. I found Erynion! The poor creature was loose in the city. He suffered a wound from an arrow, but he seems sprightly enough.” Bard’s voice called as he approached the tent. “He’s with one of your commanders now. You should have seen Alfrid’s face when he looked up to see your elk running through the…My Lord Thranduil!” The bowman cried as he looked upon the disheveled Elven King lying pale and bloodied upon the floor.

“Are you hurt? Guards!” Bard began to shout as he raced to him, scooping him up from the floor and setting him into a chair.

“Please, do not call them. I do not want anyone to see me this way.” His own voice was frail and weak.

“My Lord, are you injured?” Bard asked desperately as he scanned the king’s armor for damage.

He shook his head gently. “I am not injured.”

“The prince?” Bard whispered, his voice filled with fear.

“Legolas has decided to leave Mirkwood, to leave me.” He said as he choked back a sob. “So much death. So many lives lost.” He could not stop the tears as they slipped from his eyes.

“Come my Lord, let me help you out of this armor.” Bard said as he began pulling off the ornate metal garments one by one, placing them carefully upon the ground. “Let’s get you cleaned up now.” He poured some water into an empty bowl. Bard searched the tent for a cloth, and when he was unable to locate anything suitable, he tore a piece from his own shirt and soaked it in the water. “Let me see.” He muttered as he gently wiped the cloth across the King’s face; cleaning the blood and tears away.

He winced in pain as Bard dabbed at the right side of his face. “My Lord, have I hurt you?” Bard asked softly, withdrawing his hand.

“You’ve not hurt me. The pain is from an ancient wound.” He murmured, slightly ashamed of his gruesome injury.

“I don’t see any wound, My Lord. I see nothing but your perfect face.” The bowman teased.

“I haven’t the heart to show it to you.” He looked down once more at his hands and trembled slightly at their appearance.

“That’s nothing a little water and some scrubbing can’t fix.” Bard smiled as he took Thranduil’s hands and placed them in the water.

His heart beat quickened at the touch of Bard’s rough hands upon his own; while they were callused from years of labor, his fingers were gentle and careful as they glided over his own as he cleaned away the blood; delicately rubbing each of his fingers. It had been hundreds of years since anyone had touched him, much less in such an intimate manner. He lifted his head and watched Bard as he scrubbed, marveling in the man’s tenderness and compassion. He studied the creases as they appeared next to his eyes whenever he smiled and the way his brow furrowed as he picked away at the dried blood.

“See? Much better, right my Lord?” Bard’s eyes danced in the soft glow of the candlelight; his face alive with wonder as he admired the long fingers that were cupped within in his own.  

He nodded. Why would this man care so much for his wellbeing? He was nothing like the other sons of men he had encountered throughout the ages. He felt strangely relaxed and at ease with him; he had a way of keeping him intrigued despite being a mortal. “Bard, please call me Thranduil. You are a ruler in your own right now. A King of Dale.”

“I’m no king.” He sighed as he released Thranduil’s hands. “I don’t know the first thing about ruling or rebuilding a city. I’m afraid I’d lead these people, these good people, into ruin.” Bard dropped his head as he spoke.

“You are a natural ruler. You rallied them together after the loss of your home. You found them shelter and security. You tried to conference with the dwarves to keep peace and save lives. You led them in battle, you led them to victory.” He lifted his shoulders as he spoke, feeling his own strength returning to him. “Not to mention, you killed a dragon.”

“I think perhaps you greatly exaggerate my exploits, Thranduil.” A grin filled Bard’s face, creating those lovely little creases once more.

“I assure you, I am not. Besides, if you do not rule, then who will? I thought we were allies in this?” He tilted his head as he made his point.

“Ay, we are.” The bowman winked before bursting into a laugh. The sound of Bard’s laughter pleased him as much as any elven song. “Come now, you should eat and then rest. You’re altogether too pale, even for you elven kind.” He poured them each a full glass of wine and Bard set about trying to find something remotely edible.

He found it rather amusing that Bard was so careful and attentive to him. Despite his own tremendous strength, he felt like a child as the man tenderly wrapped one of his silken robes around him.

“Are you well? I feared for you when I first walked in here. You looked as if…well, as if..” Bard’s voice stuttered slightly and his eyes grew wide over the recollection.

“So much elven blood has been shed today. So much death. I have been to war before, many times before. I have spent centuries trying to escape the pain of what I have lost. My wife, she died at The Battle of Gundabad. I held her in my arms as she…” He said quietly. “I wanted to join her. I felt my life leaving me, and I almost let go. But I could not. I could not leave our son.”

“I am so sorry, truly I am. My wife passed giving birth to Tilda. After she died, I could hardly summon the strength to keep going. I had to carry on, my children needed me. I was all they had left.”

He nodded silently, watching the flood of memory wash upon Bard’s face. “I should have told Legolas about her. I should have shared with him my memories. I could not. It hurt too much.” Tears filled his eyes once more.

“Of course there is pain, but there is also joy. Memory can be its own joy as we share them with our children. Telling them about their mother has brought me so much comfort, and helped to ease my own feeling of loss.” Bard was smiling again.

“If I had told him more about his mother, perhaps he would not have left.” He sighed.

“Thranduil, how old is Legolas? He cannot stay a child forever. He needs to find his own path, make his own decisions. Just because he is no longer in Mirkwood, that does not mean he no longer loves you. He will return to you, you’ll see.” Bard took ahold of his hand once more, and gave it a tight squeeze.

“When you came upon me tonight, I thought perhaps it was my time to depart this world. I was ready.” He said sadly.

“And now?” Bard’s eyes, full of worry, bore into his own as he spoke.

“You bring me peace. For that, I am eternally grateful. I see now that I have much left to tend to. I must help you rebuild your city and you must council me on the affairs of men.” He allowed himself a rare smile as he spoke.

“You will help rebuild Dale? Why?” Bard was taken aback by his words, genuinely surprised by his offer.

“Because we are allies. Because you are my friend. Thank you, for taking such good care of me tonight. I do not think I would be here now had you not come to me.” He kept his eyes locked with Bard’s as he confessed. His hand, still cupped in Bard’s, spread his fingers between the bowman’s as he held them tightly before releasing them.

“You cannot leave me now. I cannot do this without you. Besides, my children are quite enamored with Erynion, and they would be devastated if they could never see him again.” There it was again, that wonderful smile that filled his heart with happiness.

“We cannot disappoint the children, can we?” He said as he gracefully bowed his head.

“No. No we cannot.” Bard grinned again, before his tone turned serious. “Shall we ride for Erebor in the morning? See what has become of The King Under the Mountain?”

“Thorin is alive. His nephew, the black haired one, had died. As did Tauriel.” His voice filled once more with reverence.

“It grieves me to hear. There was so much love between them.” Bard uttered as he shook his head.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Their love was real.”

“What of Fili then? Thorin’s other nephew, the one with golden hair?” He detected a slight panic in the bowman’s tone as he asked about the dwarf.

“He mourns his brother. We will give the dwarves two days to honor the dead, then at sunrise on the third day, we ride for Erebor.”

“Agreed.” Bard said, swallowing a large gulp of the sweet wine. “Shall I pour you another?”

“My Lord Thranduil! And Bard, it is good to see you well!” Bilbo had managed to sneak into the tent, and nearly caused Bard to spill his glass with surprise.

“Mr. Baggins! What brings you out at this late hour? Come to retrieve The Arkenstone have you? Tell Thorin that if he wants it back, he needs to make good on his promise.” Bard said curtly.

“It is not that. King Thranduil, your presence is requested in Erebor immediately.” The Halfling quipped.

“Thorin sent you to summon me into that underground dungeon? Whatever for?” He asked curiously, unsure of the reason behind this intrusion.

“Please, it is about Kili and Lady Tauriel.” Bilbo said as he fussed with the pocket on his jacket.

“Just tell me, I haven’t the time for games.” He could feel himself growing impatient with the small thief who once bested his guards.

“My Lord, they are alive.” The hobbit called loudly.

“Alive? How?” He set down his wine glass, and stood up quickly.

“I do not know. Gandalf has requested you come to Erebor straight away.” Bilbo began to head towards the door, pressing the kings to follow.

“You are to go alone into the mountain?” Bard asked, gripping his arm nervously.

“Not alone. You will be riding with me. Come now, King of Dale, we depart right now.” He dressed himself in one of his more simple gowns and they left for Erebor.

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Thorin**

The events of the day had left him quite exhausted, the battle against Azog had almost claimed his life and had it not been for Bilbo’s daring intervention, he would be lying dead atop Ravenhill. He could scarcely think about himself at this moment; his only concern was for his sister’s son lying before him. The wound he had suffered was terrible and he had seen enough of battle to know that one does not survive such an injury. He touched Kili’s forehead, silently thanking the gods for the warmth beneath his fingertips and the steady beating of the youth’s fierce heart.

Gandalf had been going on about strange magic and ancient elves since they descended from the hill, and he found himself running short on patience for the old wizard. He found Gandalf most irksome and was growing tired of his antics. He allowed his eyes to look upon the elf for a moment as she lay beside Kili. He tried to fathom how this unlikely pair came to be and what kind of future they could possibly have together. He turned towards Fili, and grasped his shoulder tightly. “ _I am grateful that you are well. All of this would mean nothing if I had lost you and Kili.”_ Long had it been since he had spoke his native tongue in the halls of his father. He rested his forehead against Fili’s and felt a wave of affection rise within him for his nephew. _“Rest now. I will keep watch over him.”_

_“I will rest once he wakes up. There will be no peace for me until I know he is well.”_ Fili said sternly. “Until they are both well. I made a promise to him, Thorin, and I intend to see it done.”

“I know. We will take this as it comes, but she will always have a place here in Erebor for what she has done for the line of Durin. I will not cast her out, but I cannot guarantee that your mother will be as understanding.” He raised his eyebrows at the mention of his sister.

“Mother is coming here?” Fili asked with nervous apprehension.

“Yes. I sent a raven to fetch her immediately. She will not be pleased when she arrives. You know how she gets when it comes to Kili and the shock of this will not be easy for her.” He said as he gestured towards Tauriel.

“I suppose not. She will come around though in time, perhaps.” Fili’s face fell as he spoke.

Gandalf swept into the room and once more began his line of tedious and veiled questioning. “The elf, what do you know of her?” The wizard asked as he bent down to get a closer look at Tauriel.

“She saved Kili’s life in Laketown. He was poisoned and near death when she arrived.” Fili explained. “She used her magic and healing, it was quite a sight.”

“All elves have skill in both healing and magic. I do not know what makes her so extraordinary, but I suspect that within her lies something very ancient. Very ancient indeed.” Gandalf said continued his examination of her before picking up one of the texts Balin had gathered from the library.

It was not long before they were interrupted by Dori heralding an arrival: “My King, Lord Thranduil has arrived.”

He rolled his eyes at the thought of dealing with that insufferable elf, yet knew that he might hold some answers as to what occurred with his nephew. “Thank you Dori, bring them into the room.” The dwarf politely bowed before quickly departing.

“King Thranduil, Master Bard.” Gandalf nodded to them as they entered the room.

“Mithrandir.” Thranduil grumbled to the wizard. “Tell me, what is so important that you would summon me at this late hour to this wretched dungeon?” He could not hide his distress in his voice.

Thorin dismissed the remaining dwarves, save for Fili who would not leave his brother’s side. Bilbo remained also, on his orders, as he knew the presence of the hobbit would help calm his temper. Gandalf encouraged King Thranduil and Bard a seat, the Elf King obliged but Bard opted to stand in the corner against the wall.

“Permit me to ask you a few questions, Thranduil. You were atop the hill when Tauriel renounced her life to be with Kili?” The old wizard asked.

“I was.” Thranduil sighed, feeling the staleness of the air fill his chest.

“Was there anything unusual about the event?” Gandalf pressed.

“Besides the fact that an immortal elf would choose death so she could be with a lowly mortal dwarf? No.” He was growing more irritable by the second. “The hobbit tells me that she lives, that they both live. But how can this be?” Thranduil moved closer to where she lay; he needed to see with his own eyes what his mind could not comprehend.

“Yes. It is true. I was hoping you might have some answers as to how.” Gandalf pulled away the blanket, revealing the extent of Kili’s injuries, and was carefully watching for any hint of understanding on his face.

He watched Thranduil as he stared at Kili. He saw a look of confusion fall over the Elf King’s face as he pondered what he was seeing and how it could possibly be real. “The wound should have killed him.” Thranduil glanced over at Bard, who had moved to Thranduil’s side, reading the same confused expression upon his face.

“It did.” A voice spoke up. “I held him in my arms as he died.” Fili affirmed.

“Surely there is a reason for this.” Thranduil, looking ever bored with Gandalf, turned once again to Bard as the pair shared a smile.

“Perhaps we should instead start at the beginning rather than the end.” Gandalf muttered. “Tell us about Tauriel. Was she born in Mirkwood?” The old wizard asked between puffs on his pipe.

“No. She was not. I do not know anything about where she came from. Legolas and his training partners came upon a most horrific scene some 600 years ago near the Coldfells. They were tracking hill trolls when they found a party of elves brutally slaughtered. Legolas said at first they thought the trolls had done this, but there was evidence of an orc attack. Legolas reported 11 deaths. It was only after they had cleaned up the scene did they discover the young elf hiding in a log.” He sighed, recalling the moment Legolas returned home with the foundling.

“The child was ghostly white and completely in shock from the terror she must have witnessed. When she arrived in Mirkwood some days later, she was near to death. My best healers tended to her and I kept watch over her while she recovered. Slowly, she began to grow stronger with each passing day.”

Gandalf, who had been taking slow puffs from his pipe, listened with intent. “When she came around, did you ask her about her family? Where they had come from and where they were going?”

“Yes. She was asked, many times. But she spoke not a single word to anyone for an entire year. My healers were unsure if she would ever be able to communicate. When she did speak, it was in Sylvan tongue. Given the road they were traveling, we assumed they were heading towards Rivendell. We received no word from Lord Elrond about a missing group of elves, and no one seemed to have any knowledge of who they were or why they were traveling so close to troll country.” Thranduil watched Gandalf closely, but there was no expression upon his face.

“Tell me Thranduil, are there any other elves like her in Mirkwood?” The old wizard said finally after carefully considering his words.

“I am quite afraid I do not understand what it is you are trying to ask me.” The Elf King asked, growing tired of the wizard’s games.

“Are there any other elves with red hair?” Gandalf asked as he stood up, walking towards where the lovers lie.

“No. Truth be told, I have not known any other elf with such hair. That is why I assumed she was a Sylvian elf; such a dark and ruddy color is not present in the Sindarian line.” Thranduil wanted to know what Gandalf was getting at with all this talk about her hair and her heritage.

“There are some who believe that red hair in elves can be traced back to a very ancient family; Nerdanel, wife of Feanor, was said to possess locks of flame, as did some of their sons. But there are those who believe it to be nonsense, as Feanor and all but one of his sons died in their quest to reclaim The Silmarils and never fathered children.” Gandalf said.

“And what do you believe?” Bard asked with great interest.

“I believe, Master Bard, that we bore witness to an extraordinary event today. Such an event, death and rebirth, has happened once before. Have you heard the tale of Beren and Luthien?” Gandalf mused as he examined Tauriel’s hair.

“No.” He began.

“I have heard that story!” Bilbo jumped up in excitement. “My mum used to tell me that story; of the elf princess and the mortal man who fell in love. The story went that when the man, Beren, died after fulfilling an impossible task and that Luthien, the elf maiden, died from sorrow. She pleaded with the gods to return them to life, so they might live a mortal life together because their love was so great. It’s a wonderful story.”

“A story told to children. This is nonsense.” He shook his head.

“I must agree with the dwarf, the legend of Beren and Luthien is simply that, a legend.” King Thranduil added.

“It is no story. The events, as you described them Bilbo, happened during the First Age. It would appear that they have happened again.” Gandalf smiled at the pair. “Love is a curious thing, is it not?”

“How so?” Bilbo asked as Thranduil rolled his eyes.

“Two creatures, not of the same race or culture, find each other by chance and fall in love despite all the odds stacked against them. One might say that such a love is destined; driven by fate and simply meant to be.” As Gandalf spoke, he looked past the wizard and his eyes caught the gaze of Bilbo and he smiled at the hobbit. The Grey One stood up and approached him with a serious expression upon his face. “I do not know how this miraculous event happened, but I do know that there is a very powerful and a very old magic at work here. I cannot guarantee that you will like the answers you hear, but one thing is most certain, Kili is alive because of her. Every moment you have with him from this day forth, you owe to her and to their love.”

“I am grateful to the girl. Of course I am. Kili is most dear to me.” He smiled at Fili, the ever devoted brother, and gave him a nod.

“Kili is a remarkable young dwarf, is he not?” Gandalf mused as he studied the dwarf lying upon the table.

“Yes, he is most remarkable.” He swallowed hard. The pain of seeing his beloved kin lying dead upon the ground still searing in his mind; the emotions still raw within him.

“Has he always had tendencies towards elvish ways?” Gandalf asked, trying to be as gentle as possible about the sensitive subject.

“What? What are you saying?” He hissed, disgusted by such a question. “I do not have time nor need for this line of questioning.”

“It is no insult, Thorin. I am merely inquiring about his nature. Even you cannot deny that there is something quite different about the lad.” Gandalf chose his words carefully this time, trying not to further provoke the Dwarf King.

“I do not know what you are talking about.” He could feel his hands clench at the wizard’s suggestions.

“Yes. Always.” Fili spoke up, unable to remain silent. “Even when we were children, he was always different. Do you not remember the names the others would call him?”

“Fili, this is not the time.” He snapped, but was quickly interrupted by Fili.

“They called him Kili the Elf and Son of Elves because of his height and his inability to grow a proper beard, his use of a bow and his keen hearing. What of it Gandalf? What is it you’re trying to say?” Fili cried aloud, shaking with frustration.

“Yes Gandalf, what are you trying to say?” He roared in anger. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thranduil lean in closer to Bard and whisper something into his ear.

“I am not sure what to make of this yet. I am simply looking at the facts as we know them to be thus far. We will know more when The White Council arrives.” Gandalf said soothingly, trying to calm the tension that filled the room.

“The White Council is coming here?” Thranduil elicited a gasp.

“For what purpose?” He became increasingly hostile at the notion of more elves arriving at his gates.

“The White Council will have questions, and perhaps, answers. They were there, you know, in the beginning when the world was new.” Gandalf winked at Bilbo as he spoke.

“What questions need answering? Kili is alive. How and why are of no consequence.” He argued.

“The boy was dead and now he lives. That fact does not strike you as being of any consequence? Thorin Oakenshield, you are the most stubborn of dwarves.” Gandalf chided.

“You come here with your riddles, your questions, your accusations and you want me to find solace in ancient elves and fairy tales? I do not care about your theories or anything The White Council might have to say.” Thorin raised his voice to the wizard.

“Are you so blind to what is right in front of you that you would rather ignore the truth than face it? Would being of elvish descent make him any less your kin?” The wizard, losing his temper, shouted in anger.

“ _I will not hear such things!_ ” Thorin bellowed and the room fell silent.

“I’m sure Gandalf means no disrespect or harm, Thorin. As he said, we are just looking at the facts as we know them. As far as Kili, we do not know anything and I suspect his line of questioning is meant only to find answers, not create problems.” The Halfling quipped, trying desperately to calm the Dwarf King.

“I will not stand here and listen to your insulting insinuations any longer. This meeting is over. You can see yourselves out now.” He leapt up from the chair and stormed from the room.

He needed to be alone with his thoughts, to thoroughly process the events of the day and to understand all that Gandalf had said. He headed for the rampart, the cool night air sent a chill through his body, yet the sensation was all together pleasing. How could any of what Gandalf said be true? His own blood line tainted with the blood of elves? Preposterous. And yet, there had always been a lingering feeling inside of him; one that he had tried so desperately to push out of his mind. Kili was not the first dwarf in the Durin line to bear resemblance to elven kind. There had been another; one who had lived and died before Kili was born. One who displayed the same traits, the same abilities and the same build: Thorin’s younger brother.

“ _Frerin.”_ He whispered his name aloud, the first time it many years since it had left his lips. He allowed himself to remember Frerin’s smile, his voice, his laugh and his playful and reckless spirit that was so thoroughly different from his own. When they were children, it was Frerin who got into trouble and always Thorin who came to his defense. Closer than close they were, until his death at the hands of Azog’s general. So much of Frerin lived on in Kili; perhaps that was why he was always so protective of him and he would do anything to see him safe and happy. But there was something else distinctly Frerin about Kili; his keen senses and his undeniable skill with a bow had many of the dwarves talking. He heard some of this talk, but refused to believe that his younger brother could be anything besides a proper dwarf. But he was different, in all the ways that Kili was different. _“Frerin, I wish you were here to guide me. I would give anything to see your face just one more time.”_ Whenever he thought of his brother, the wound in his heart ached terribly, as if the loss were still new.

When he died, there was no comfort for Thorin; no justice, no peace, nothing save for the pain in his heart and the festering anger his death left behind. He should have saved Frerin. He should have been there for him, protecting him in battle. That same battle earned him the name Oakenshield, but where everyone referred to him as such by means of a compliment, it served as a constant reminder of the loss of Frerin. He took no pleasure or pride from his accomplishments that day. That bitterness remained within him, and he vowed that if Frerin could take no wife or father any children, than neither would he. There was no need, as his sister had born two healthy heirs, heirs as dear to him as if they were his own sons. He pledged himself to a life of service to his people and solitude, devoid of worldly pleasures.

For a hundred years he had kept that vow; guarding his heart and hardening himself against all outsiders. He wanted nothing more than to reclaim Erebor, restore pride and honor to his family name and watch his nephews grow into respectable dwarven men. Now, as he stood on the rampart overlooking the city of Dale, he decided that perhaps it was time for him to stop running from his fears and demons and start accepting that which he could not change. _“I love Kili, and nothing will ever change that. I owe you that much, Frerin.”_

Looking over the edge at the battlefield, he was reminded of the grim loss of so many lives and how his own greed had nearly led them all into ruin. “ _I will give Bard and the citizens of Dale enough gold to return the city to splendor.”_ He said as he watched the torches burning in the city below. He made up his mind, he was to become the dwarf king he was destined to be; the one his grandfather was before the sickness took hold. “ _I will make you proud, my dear brother. I promise I will.”_ He prayed silently, all the while keeping Frerin in his mind. The sound of footsteps jolted him from his thoughts and before him stood the hobbit.

“I’m sorry to intrude. I did not realize you were up here.” Bilbo said softly as he came into view. “I needed some air.”

“You are not intruding. You are a welcome sight tonight.” He grinned at the sight of the hobbit, feeling most relieved to be in his presence. “I needed some time to think. To grieve for those who are now lost to us; to find peace with that which may yet be revealed.”

“Thorin, you have to know that Gandalf meant no disrespect to you or to Kili.” Bilbo sighed as he stood beside him, also looking down at the grim scene below.

“Yes, I know. In truth, long have I had my own suspicions.” He allowed his shoulders to slump and he drew in a deep breath as he prepared to unburden his thoughts. “I had a brother. We were as close as Fili and Kili are and as different too. He was the gentle breeze to my stormy winds and the joy of my life.” A faint smile appeared upon his face as he spoke.

“I did not know. What happened to him?” The hobbit asked.

“He died in the battle to reclaim Moria.” His voice low and filled with sorrow.

“I…I am so sorry Thorin.” Bilbo reached out his hand, placing it on top of his own.

“It happened long ago. One does not ever recover from such a loss. I never recovered.” He swallowed hard again before continuing. “In many ways, Kili reminds me of my brother; they share many of the same qualities. For that reason, Kili is most special to me.”

Bilbo said nothing, just nodded his head and squeezed his hand.

“Long have I had my suspicions about the possibility of elven heritage in the line of Durin. Long have I considered the possibility, but I have never resigned myself to believe it to be true. Now, with the White Council coming here, they might confirm that which I have feared.” He furrowed his brow and turned towards the Halfling for comfort.

“So what if it’s true? You Durins have done what everyone considered impossible; you took back your home from a dragon. Who would dare to say anything against that?” Bilbo grinned.

“I am grateful to have you here with me. I must admit, I am quite ashamed of myself right now.” He shook his head.

“Why?” Bilbo asked, his eyes wide with curiosity.

“The way I behaved the last time we stood here atop this precipice. What I said to you. What I almost…” He closed his eyes and shook his head as he remembered his own terrible words: _Throw him from the rampart_ echoed in his mind.

“Thorin, you were not yourself and you were well within your right to be angry with me, I did betray you.” The hobbit cast his eyes downward.

“You did not betray me. You saved me from myself and the terrible sickness that consumed me. Of all The Company, you were the most loyal to me, and I nearly killed you. Can you ever forgive me?” He dropped to his knees in front of Bilbo, desperate to make amends.

“There is nothing to forgive! Come now, a king should not humble himself before a mere hobbit.” Bilbo said as he pressed his hands into his pockets.

“You are many things, Master Burglar, but you are no mere hobbit and I owe you everything, including my life.” He stood up and grasped Bilbo’s shoulder. “You saved me today. Had you not stabbed Azog, I would surely be dead now.”

“That? I just distracted him. You’re the one who delivered the fatal blow. I only helped a bit.” The hobbit blushed.

“Again, you underestimate yourself. I am quite in your debt. I have been nothing but horrid to you and you have been nothing but loyal. Why?” His voice filled with sadness as he spoke, he pulled a withered leaf from Bilbo’s tangle of hair.

“Do you not know?” Bilbo’s face now a deep crimson, his eyes shone brightly in the moon light; those eyes that had brought him so much comfort during their long journey. He felt as if his heart might burst with joy.

Before he could respond, he heard Dori’s voice for the second time that evening, heralding yet another arrival. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Dain has arrived and wishes to celebrate victory with you. He was quite insistent, My King.”

“Very well. Invite him and all our kin into the halls. Tonight, we shall celebrate. Away now, Dori.” He excused the polite dwarf and once again turned his attention to Bilbo. “This conversation is not yet finished. I’m afraid we will need to discuss it later, as I request you join me in welcoming my people to Erebor. This is to be a joyous evening, and I require you by my side.”

“Of course, my King.” Bilbo blushed once more and again, he felt as if his heart would leap from his chest.

 

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter might need to be read twice, as there are 2 different conversations occurring at the same time. It might help to read the non-italicized conversation first, then go back and read the conversation between Thorin and Galadriel. Hopefully this makes sense! Sorry it's taken me a while to get this one out, the last few chapters have been difficult to articulate and I've spent a great deal of time thinking about the direction I want this story to go in. I hope you enjoy what I have in store for our pairs of lovers and don't be afraid to let me know what you think!! Thanks for reading:) TB

**Tauriel**

She felt far away, as if she were among the stars in the sky; so far away and removed from the life she had known. Images flashed in her head, but she could not be certain that anything she was seeing was real or imagined: A large boat sailing upon a shining sea, a mighty oak with branches that stretched towards the sky and a black figure skewed against a backdrop of blinding light. The figure said nothing, but she felt an overwhelming need to reach him. She extended her hand out towards him, and felt his fingers link into her own; his hand began pulling away from her, but she tightened her grip. _I will not let you go…I will not let you go…_

She secured her free hand with his and arched her back, pulling with all of her strength until they stood together atop a great hill covered with brilliant green grass and flourishing willow trees in full bloom. The figure, still clutching her hands, began to take a familiar shape; his long and dark hair, his almond shaped bright brown eyes and his cheeks dimpled by his tremendous grin were unmistakable to her.

“Hello, amralime.” He said with a smile.

“I still do not know what that means.” She replied; her voice was muffled as it echoed in her ears.

“I know you do.” He laughed, and it was the most precious sound she had ever heard. “Where are we?” He asked as he looked around.

“I don’t know.” Confusion came over her and her eyes darted around the landscape, the muffled sound of familiar voices rang out beyond the horizon, and she strained to hear them. “It feels like we are within a dream; neither awake nor asleep.”

“I do not believe it to be a dream as I am feeling very tired and I would like to rest now. Will you lie beside me?” He sank into the lush greenery beneath their feet and placed his head upon the fertile ground.

“I am afraid to sleep, my darling. I fear that when I awaken, you will be lost to me.” She clenched her hands together and took a step backwards towards the voices in the distance.

“Do not be afraid. I am with you, and I will always be with you. Have faith in our love. Come now, please lie beside me and we can gaze at the stars together.” He grinned once more and she felt a calm settle over her. She knelt on the ground; feeling the soft earth against her knees, she gazed into his eyes and her fear was gone.

“Will you hold my hand?” She asked as she lay upon the grass next to him. “You promise you will be there when I wake up?”

“Of course, I will not leave you. Let us rest now.” He whispered as he closed his eyes. “Sleep my love, my Tauriel.” He squeezed her fingers gently as he spoke.

“I will see you when we awaken, my sweet Kili.” She could feel her body drifting into a deep slumber; she could still hear faint voices from a great distance away, but she no longer felt the desire to hear them. Sleep was coming for her, and she allowed it to take her.

Then silence. No sounds, no noises, no images. Nothing. Her hand felt empty and her body cold. She wanted to awaken, but as hard as she tried to force her eyes to open, she was unable. She called to him, desperate to find him in the darkness; to feel his warmth once more.  

_…“You are quite safe my lady. It is alright.”_ ….a deep voice called to here through the empty space and she felt old, gnarled fingers tightening around hers.

_…“Has she awoken yet?”…_ another voice, this one much younger, asked as it approached her.

_…“Not yet. She thrashes about and calls for him, but most of what she says is in elvish, and I do not understand.”_ …the elder voice said with reservation.

_…“She is sweating, does she have a fever?”_ …the younger asked.

…“ _I cannot tell. I fear for her.”_ …she felt a hand lay across her forehead, and the older voice close to her face. He whispered to her, pleading to her… “ _Please come back to us, Lady Tauriel. You have saved Kili, he is alive. He is waiting for you, but you must wake up.”…_

Alive? She felt her heart begin to beat faster and faster inside her chest. Was this voice speaking the truth? How could that be possible? _Kili_ , _have you really come back to me?_ As quickly as the thoughts came into her mind, she felt the great sleep come for her again; her body was not yet healed and she hadn’t the strength to move. _I must rest and get stronger._ Once again, she drifted away into the darkness.

**Kili**

…“T _he White Council has arrived and King Thorin requests your presence at the meeting…”_

For seven days, he drifted in and out of consciousness. He heard the voices of The Company members as they fussed around him; his brother’s voice, calm and comforting, was the voice he could always distinguish above the din.

_…“Tell Thorin that I will be there shortly. He has been stirring quite a bit this past hour and I think he might awaken.”…_ The unmistakable voice belonging to Fili rang clearly in his ears.

_…“I will let him know. He will be eager to hear of any progress.”…_

…“ _It is time to wake up, Kili. Please, wake up”…_ Fili urged gently to him; he could feel the desperation in his brother’s voice.

He forced his eyes to flutter open, and once again, his brother’s features, blurred and distorted, slowly came into view.

“Fee.” His voice hoarse and dry, cracking as he tried to speak.

“I am here brother. You had us worried.” Fili squeezed his hand tightly as tears streaked down his cheeks.

“Tauriel…where is she? Is she alright?” He struggled to lift his head from the pillow.

“Ay, she is alive. She is recovering, slowly, in another room.” Fili palm rested against his forehead, encouraging him to lay back and rest.

“She is here? When can I see her?” He closed his eyes and pictured her face in his mind.

“When you are well enough to stand, I suppose.” His brother said sternly.

“What of Uncle and Bilbo?” He breathed in sharply, fearful of his brother’s response.

“Everyone is well, thank Mahal.” Fili grinned as he spoke.

“This is good news. Fili, what happened to me?” He asked softly, his chest ached as he exhaled.

“You died. Tauriel gave up her life to be with you. Somehow, you both came back to us. We do not know what happened or why you were given life once more. Do you remember anything about that day?” Fili asked.

“I…I don’t remember.” He closed his eyes and tried to think about the last moment before he slipped into darkness, but nothing made sense; had he dreamt about the hill and the trees?

“Well anyway, The White Council has arrived, at Gandalf’s request, to determine by what miracle you returned to us.” Fili grinned as he brushed his hair back out of his face.

“The White Council?” He asked with confusion.

“The Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien, Lord Elrond, the great wizard Saruman and their entourage have arrived.” Fili explained as he picked at the lint on the blanket.

“More elves. I’m sure Uncle is thrilled.” He tried once more to sit up, but the sting of his wound restricted his movement.

“Uncle has only invited them because he is worried about you. I must go and meet with them, but I am sure they will want to see you. You should get some rest, save your strength for when Mother arrives.” Fili winked at him.

“Mother is coming here?” He smiled thinking about seeing her face again.

“Ay. I don’t know how she will take all of this…news. You should prepare yourself to face her wrath.” His brother patted his hand as he gave him a knowing look.

“You know Mum, she can’t stay angry with this face.” He tried to laugh, but ended up in a coughing fit.

“Rest you idiot.” Fili sighed as he shook his head. “I’ll be back as soon I’m able to get away.”

 

**Thorin**

The horn of Lothlorien heralded the arrival of one of Middle Earth’s most powerful creatures; The Lady Galadriel. In her company, the great warrior Haladir and his loyal battalion of fighters stood guard over the ancient elf. A second horn sounded, signaling the arrival of Lord Elrond of Rivendell and his assembly. Among Elrond’s entourage, Saruman; the eldest of the wizards and the most revered of their order.

At the gates of Erebor, prepared to welcome the Council was Gandalf the Grey alongside King Thranduil of Mirkwood and Lord Bard of Dale. Such a gathering of powerful and important figures was a most splendid sight to behold.

He stood upon the rampart and watched as the companies approached the entrance to his city. He had spent the week preparing himself mentally to accept whatever truths they would reveal to him, yet he was in no mood to contend with so many of elves. He joined the assembly as they gathered in the largest and grandest of all of Erebor’s halls, and while he was unnerved to once again be face to face with Thranduil and Lord Elrond, he could not deny that he took pleasure in meeting The Lady Galadriel.

“What we know,” Gandalf began. “Is that Kili, the dwarf, was killed by Bolg, by means of an arrow through the chest. Tauriel, the elf, surrendered her life to spend the duration of her afterlife with Kili. Young Fili here witnessed the entire occurrence. Thorin and King Thranduil witnessed Tauriel’s sacrifice and observed the radiant glow she emanated. The reanimation occurred sometime after and was again witnessed by Fili and Thorin. By this time, I had arrived to confirm that both dwarf and elf were alive.” Gandalf paused as he looked around to each council member. “I believe, without a doubt, that the death and reanimation of Kili and Tauriel mirrors that of the great lovers, Beren and Luthien.”   His statement produced an array of responses from the council.

“The events, as the occurred, certainly do seem to mirror those of Beren and Luthien. Can we be certain of what happened? I do not know.” Lord Elrond spoke. “What has the dwarf said about his experience?”

“He does not remember anything.” Fili’s brow furrowed as he addressed the Council.

“That is not unusual. It is said that Beren did not recall anything of his death either.” Elrond explained. “What about the elf, Tauriel? Has she said anything on this matter?”

“She has yet to say anything, Lord Elrond. She falls in and out of consciousness; never speaking coherently.” Fili said sadly.

“The love Beren and Luthien shared was so powerful, even the gods could not deny them their desire to be together. No other love like this has existed since.” Lord Elrond explained to the gathering.

[“ _A love so powerful to raise the dead is rare and precious indeed. And yet, doubt lingers in your mind. What is it that troubles you, Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain?”_ Her voice echoed in his mind, catching him off guard and unsettling him. He looked up at The Lady Galadriel to be certain that it was indeed her voice he was hearing. She nodded to him as she acknowledged his confusion.]

“How can we be sure that it has, in fact, happened once more? Where is the proof?”   The great wizard Saruman balked.

[“ _Is it true that my nephew possesses the blood of elves?”_ The thought came into his mind, and he could not hide his inner fears from her.]

“There can be no definitive proof. We only have the facts as they stand; the questionable heritage of the elf as well as the dwarf leaves much to be open for questioning. Thranduil tells us that Tauriel’s family was murdered by orcs near the Coldfells, and that nothing is known about who they were and why they were traveling so close to Troll country.” Gandalf interjected as he aimed to draw the Elf King into the conversation.

[ _“Such things are possible. The race of elves is ancient. Some answers are clear, while others are hidden, even from my mind.”_ She was watching him now; carefully studying his reactions.]

“Tauriel has given no indication about her parents or their lineage. That does not mean that she is descended from Feanor and his family.” Thranduil rolled his eyes as he spoke, obviously annoyed over the prospect of Tauriel being of a higher station.

[ _“Can you tell me what you see?”_ He asked anxiously.]

“I agree with King Thranduil. There is just not enough to convince me that any of your theories are correct, Gandalf. The young dwarf probably passed out from the injury and the elf’s magic must have healed him. I’m sorry Gandalf, but I am unwilling to call this event a second coming of Beren and Luthien. Nor am I convinced that this elf is of any distant relation to The Lady Nerdanal. There is no evidence, no solid proof.” Saruman said dismissively.

[ _“You already know the answer to your question. The real question is: what will you do with this information?”_ Her voice was soft and soothing as she entreated him to more riddles.]

“With all respect Lord Saruman, you did not see the gravity of the wound. The dwarf had no chance of survival. You, yourself Thranduil, bore witness to the severity of his injuries. That was no mere slash; he was gored completely through his chest.” Gandalf argued.

[ _“If he is descended from elf-kind, then that means that I am also.”_ The words fell off his tongue before he could process the implications.]

“It’s true.” Bard muttered quietly, before raising his voice before The Council. “I also bore witness to Kili’s injuries. They were most grave indeed, as Gandalf has described.”

[ _“The past is a curious thing. The creatures of Middle Earth are all connected, one way or another, be it by the blood that flows within us or the earth upon which we toil.”_ The Lady Galadriel’s gaze was far away as she spoke. _“The first elves were industrious; the Valars exemplified talent and skill, renowned was their work and their creations. Are you dwarves not in possession of exceptional skill? Would your claim on the throne of Erebor be diminished because of events that happened thousands of years ago?”_ The Lady of Lothlorien gazed into his eyes as her voice filled his mind.]

“Lord Bard, you are an honorable man and I do not doubt what you say is true. But again, we have no proof that the dwarf did not simply recover by means of the elves’ magic spell cast.” Saruman shook his head as he spoke.

[“ _I do not know how my people will take this news.”_ He was filled with doubt, shame and confusion.]

“I held my brother in my arms as he died. I felt his spirit leave him and watched his eyes dim. I did not imagine that or exaggerate the details just so he could gain notoriety. I cannot explain what occurred that day, but what I do know is that I have him back, and that is all that matters to me.” Fili, who had grown quite angered over the discussion, finally spoke up in rebuttal.

[ _“Those who would be loyal to you through difficult times will be loyal to you in times of prosperity. There are loyal hearts that dwell here in the mountain still.”_ She gave him a slight smile and he felt strangely at ease with her answer.]

“Master Fili, death can be a curious happening. One might not be dead, despite being declared so by even the most experienced healer. Could it be possible that you simply believed your brother to be dead when in reality, he was unconscious?” Lord Elrond asked respectfully.

“My nephew speaks the truth. I will not entreat anyone who calls me or my kin a liar in my own home.” He growled in defense of Fili.

“No one is accusing you or Fili of lying, King Thorin.” Gandalf gestured with his arms to calm down as the assembly began to grow increasingly hostile.

“I’m afraid I am quite divided on this issue, perhaps if we wait for Tauriel to awaken and give us a more clear description of what she experienced. I would like to hear what she has to say.” Lord Elrond directed his attention to him, as if he were trying to apologize for his doubts. Perhaps this elf was quite different from King Thranduil.

“I believe you, Fili son of Vili.” The Lady Galadriel finally spoke and all grew silent. “Sometimes true miracles cannot be explained or seen.   I believe it is a matter of faith; faith in a love so wondrous that not even death can render it fractured.” She finished speaking, then stood up and turned to walk away. “Fili, would you be so kind as to take me to see your brother and Tauriel? I very much desire to see them.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Fili said as his eyes grew wide. “Right this way.”

He watched them leave; The Lady Galadriel swept gracefully from the room; her long and flowing robes gently rippling as she moved, her long golden hair cascading in flowing waves down her back. Before she moved out of sight, she turned back towards him, and gave him a slight nod. His heart, once torn and battered, now felt strangely at peace in her presence; not at all hardened by her wisdom and insight.


	24. Chapter 24

**Fili**

He led the glorious elf through the winding halls past stunningly grand rooms until at last they arrived just outside of Tauriel’s chamber. “She is through here, My Lady.” He said with all the formality he could muster.

Before he opened the door, he could hear Gloin’s laughter coming from inside. Curious, he quietly pushed the door ajar and stood in the threshold, listening. He looked up at Lady Galadriel and saw that she was smiling most genuinely.

“Oh lass, you cannot even imagine how angry Dwalin was over the whole incident! Try to picture him- the grouchy buggar- covered head to toe in baking flour. He looked like an orc, only uglier- Ha! That rapscallion of yours always was quite the troublemaker. Even though poor Fili took the blame, everyone knew it was Kili and my wee lad Gimli who were the culprits. Mahal, I never heard the end of it from Throin or Dis, it’s her wrath you should fear!” Gloin’s rare show of affection was on full display as he rubbed tears of laughter from his eyes. His hearty voice filled the room with joy as he recanted to Tauriel the story of how the three young dwarves played a prank on Dwalin many years before.

“You’re forgetting the best past there, Gloin!” He blurted out, forgetting himself for a moment.  “How Dwalin sneezed and flour flew from his nose. Remember how he chased us through the town, threatening to cut off our ears if he caught us. Kili hid behind the rock wall with a pail of water, and heaped it onto Dwalin as he ran by. Poor man was caked in wet flour! Mum scolded us something awful, but I still say it was the best prank we’d ever pulled!” He grinned at the memory and felt so much pride to hear Gloin tell the story to Tauriel.

“FIli! I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon.” Gloin jumped up from his seat, clearly surprised by their arrival. “I was just having a moment, I meant no…Well I’ll be.” He muttered as he stood slack-jawed and eyes shining in the presence of Lady Galadriel. “My Lady!” He revered politely, all the while attempting a distinguished bow.

“You tell a wonderful story. It does the heart a service to hear laughter.” Lady Galadriel nodded to the dwarf.

“I was just..uh..talking to the lass, to see if I could rouse her. She hasn’t come around yet, and I know my brother is quite concerned. He’s been tending to her, he’s something of a healer. I’ll be out of your way now. It has been a privilege to gaze upon the fairest of creatures, The Lady of Lothlorien.” Gloin stuttered before he ran out of the room.

“Your companions are exceptional indeed.” She smiled once more. “She has been well cared for, I see.” Lady Galadriel said as she walked over towards the bed where Tauriel lie asleep.

“We have done our best, but I’m afraid we are woefully unaware of how to tend to an elf.” He blushed as he spoke so candidly with such an important dignitary.

“She is recovering. It will take some time for her to gain her strength back; losing her immortality has taken a great toll on her body.” Galadriel said softy. _“I sense an old magic in you, one I have not felt for an age.”_ She whispered in her elvish tongue.

He stood back and marveled at how, despite being in a cavern deep underground, sunlight seemed to radiate from her. He could hardly deny that he was most in awe of her; her grace and beauty were legendary, but he was most impressed by her sincere kindness towards him and his kin. He had not known elves to be gracious or warm beings, that was not so for the Lady Galadriel.

**Tauriel**

She remained in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness; trapped floating in a realm with no reality save for her memories and images of him. She felt far away from the voices that called to her and as hard as she tried to find them, she felt lost within her mind. _“I am trying to find my way back to you Kili. I must get back to you.”_ Determined, she tried once more to force her eyes to open, but to no avail.

Out of the shadows of her mind came a figure; shrouded and hidden from her, but once more she felt at ease and unafraid. The figure approached her, and as it came closer and closer, she was able to distinguish the majesty of the one who stood before her: The Lady Galadriel. Never had she laid her eyes upon the legendary elf, but she knew within an instant who she was; the unmistakable long gold hair and reserved calm of The Lady of Lothlorien brought her to her knees.

“ _You need not bow before me, Tauriel of Mirkwood.”_ Lady Galadriel’s voice sounded softly in her mind.

_“Lady Galadriel, I am humbled by your appearance.”_ She stood, but her head remained bowed. _“Can I ask why you are here? Why would you, the highest of the elf order, come to me?”_

_“I am here because it is time for you to come back, time to awaken and begin your life anew. Someone is waiting, someone most precious to you, and he needs you now. Follow my voice back into the light, child. Follow my voice and be reborn, Tauriel.”_ Galadriel’s gentle words filled her with sudden hope as she took a tentative step towards The Lady of Lothlorien.

_“Yes, that is the way, come now.”_ Her words were close now, closer and clearer than any she had heard in a long time. She pushed her way through the darkness and saw a flickering of lights before her. “ _Open your eyes. You are almost there.”_

The light was growing brighter now and her surroundings were coming into focus; she was lying in a bed in a large, cavernous room. The Lady Galadriel and Fili came into view as her eyes settled upon them. “Where is Kili?” Her words were rough and her throat sore and dry.

“He is alive, thanks to you.” Fili cried as he dashed to her side with a cup of water. “Please, drink this, it will help.” He propped her head up with a pillow and carefully brought the cup to her lips, the cool water soothed her burning throat as she sipped it down.

“I heard your voices as you tended to me, but I could not awaken. I am thankful to you, Lady Galadriel for drawing me out of the darkness.” She coughed and it made her throat and chest ache. “I’m afraid I am too weak to get up.”

“It will pass, for you are stronger than you know.” The Lady of Lothlorien said assuredly.

“There were flashes of images in my mind. I saw a boat and a great tree with branches pointed towards the sky, then Kili and I standing atop a lush green hill. Other than that, I do not remember anything about what happened.” She tried her best to recall the strange flurry of images.

Lady Galadriel said nothing, but a smile appeared upon her otherworldly face.

“You should rest now, Tauriel.” Fili said as he offered her water once more. “I will send someone in to tend to you, should you need anything.”

“Thank you,” she said weakly. “Will I wake up again?” She asked Lady Galadriel.

“Yes, you will.” The golden haired elf bowed gracefully and turned to leave the room. Before she exited the doorway, she turned back and her voice rang in her mind once more: _“Have faith in your love, and there is no need to fear. I am glad to have met you, Tauriel. If ever you need me, I will come to you.”_

With that, The Lady of Lothlorien was gone and she once again fell back to sleep; but this sleep was much different, a calm and warm feeling embraced her as she drifted off.

**Fili**

“My brother’s room is through here, from the sounds of it, he is sleeping.” He said quietly as he pushed open the carved door, revealing the sleeping prince. “Kili’s a bit of a noisy sleeper.” He chuckled to himself as the sounds of familiar snores filled his ears.

“He must be quiet tired. We should do well not to wake him.” Lady Galadriel sighed.

“I can show you the wound, though it’s healing rather well, it was a most dreadful sight when it was fresh.” He whispered as he pulled back the blankets, revealing the bright red scar splashed across his chest. He tried to gauge for any reaction, but there was none he could discern from her serene expression; she remained as stoic as ever.

“This is interesting.” She pointed to the small mark on Kili’s chest. “Has this always been here?”

“No, it has not. As strange as it sounds, the mark seemed to appear after he received his injury.” He confessed to the High Elf.

“Interesting indeed. Tell me, Fili, what do you see?” She asked sweetly.

“It looks like...” he began. “Like a star within a star, but eight separate points.” He murmured as he looked closer, carefully examining the strange mark. “I feel like I’ve seen this before. It reminds me of the stars above the gates of Moria, the marks of House Durin. But this one is different.”

“Yes, it is quite an ancient mark from an ancient time. If I were to ask you how you think your brother came to live once more, what would you tell me?” Galadriel’s eyes slanted as she spoke.

“Truth be told, my lady, I do not much care for mystic, magic or old stories. I know my brother is different, I’ve known it since we were boys. There was always something about him that inspired such distain from the other dwarves, but not so for me. He is dearer to me than my own heart, and I would die a thousand deaths if he could live but one more day. So you see; it does not matter to me how he came back, only that he came back.” He swallowed hard and stared up at The Lady of Lothlorien, expecting her to be displeased, but he was mistaken.

“It must have been terrible for you to watch him die. I feel a piece of you died with him upon that hill. Do not despair, Fili son of Vili, there is no heart more loyal in all of Middle Earth than yours. Allow your heart to guide you, to rule you and it shall never lead you astray, that I promise you. Will you do well to remember my words?” Lady Galadriel took his hand into hers and pressed something into his palm. “This is my gift to you; it is small and humble, yet precious and pure. Let it remind you to trust yourself if ever you are conflicted.” She closed his fingers around the object and gently withdrew her hand from his. “I have one more gift to bestow before I depart.” Out of the sash around her waist, she withdrew something wrapped in cloth and stood once more beside Kili’s bedside. She said not a word before leaving the item upon the nightstand.

As he watched her standing aside his brother, he slowly opened his hand to reveal a single white pearl sitting in his palm; shining and delicate, he had never seen another like it before. The pearl was no larger than the tip of his little finger, but he sensed it had great value. _Such a treasure_. He thought to himself. _Why would Lady Galadriel give me such a tremendous gift? I am not worthy of this.”_ He lifted his head to speak with The Lady of Lothorien, to tell her that she had made a mistake by giving his such a precious gift, but she was gone; she had disappeared into the night.

**Kili**

Though he was deep in sleep, he could feel a presence enter his dreams; a heavenly body with tremendous power and immeasurable grace. She appeared before him, standing in a field surrounded by scores of wild flowers and bathed in sunlight.

_“Sweet Kili, do you know who I am?”_ Her voice cooed warmly.

_“Are you not the Lady Galadriel?”_ His words hummed in his throat as he prostrated himself to her.

“ _That I am young one. And yet, your heart is not so young. I have met one like you before; strong, fierce, brave, loyal and devoted.”_ She smiled at him while she spoke.

_“I assure you, I am just a dwarf. Tauriel is the one who is those things you describe. She saved me, more than once!”_ He laughed remembering their first encounter in the woods. _“And my brother, Fili, he is all of those qualities and more. I am just Kili. I do not know why you would come to me.”_ He sighed.

_“Prince of Erebor, you are so much more than you know.”_ Lady Galadriel whispered. He could only shake his head, embarrassed by her compliment.

_“What news of Tauriel? Is she alright? I can hear her in my dreams, but she is far away from me.”_ He felt an anxious tension creep into his chest.

_“She is awake now, but still very weak. As are you.”_ Her calm tone set his mind at ease.

_“Is it true, what they say happened to us? Did I really die?”_ He asked with reservation in his voice as he hesitated.

_“There is a story of a love so pure and true, that not even death could keep them parted. This love happened some ages ago, and it appears that it has happened once more.”_ Lady Galadriel’s eyes twinkled as she spoke.

_“ I love her.”_ He said confidently. _“I would do anything to see her happy.”_

“ _I know. I have a gift for you. When you awaken, you will find it beside you. It is a relic from an ancient time that was once lost, but nothing in Middle Earth ever stays gone forever. I bid you farewell, Kili son of Vili.”_ She bowed her head before she faded from view.

He awoke sometime later and examined the package left for him beside his bedside. Inside the cloth wrapping was a necklace; it was old and appeared to have spent quite a bit of time in the sea, but beautiful none the less. The necklace appeared to be missing its center stone, for the setting clearly once held a large, precious jewel. _I’m certain I could find something to fill this void. With a bit of work, it could be magnificent again._ He continued to marvel at the relic and wondered who might have originally owned such an ornate piece and what splendid gem could merit such a fine necklace.

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Bard**

He was relieved when the council meeting came to an end and he was able to slip away quietly. While he was keenly interested in meeting Lady Galadriel, he felt completely out of place surrounded by so many dignitaries; Thranduil convinced him that it was his duty, as Lord of Dale, to attend prestigious meetings. However, if he had his way, he would have been right in the thick of laying bricks and raising foundations in the city instead of listening to wordy elves and wizards argue.

He meant to take his leave of Erebor, but not before speaking once again with Thorin about the rebuilding of Dale. The dwarf king offered him gold as well as workers, and he was grateful for the help. Something in Thorin’s voice sounded different; as if he had regretted completely their previous encounters and was putting forth an effort to make amends. This side of Thorin was a welcome change and he knew that the citizens of Dale would benefit from a mutual relationship between men and dwarves.

“Dale and its residents thank you for your support, King Thorin Oakenshield. I must head back now, there is still much that needs to be done. Give my regards to your company.” He said solemnly.

“Anticipate the arrival of the dwarves in several days. I will send them as soon as we clear the furnaces. In the future, you may send an emissary if you require anything further. I imagine that once you are crowned king, your time for venturing to Erebor will be restricted to important business only. We will be glad to receive and parlay with any of your men. Until we meet again, safe travels King Bard.” Thorin’s voice lifted as he spoke.

“I will send my most trusted adviser in my stead.” He said as he clasped the Dwarf King’s hand.

“King Bard! I have not had the chance to speak to you since the battle. How fares you and your city?” Fili called as he appeared in the gate.

“Master Fili, the city is well and growing every day. How are your brother and Lady Tauriel? Did Lady Galadriel have anything further to say about them?” He found his own curiosity getting the better of him.

“Tauriel has finally awoken and my brother is resting, I imagine they will be well enough soon. Lady Galadriel is a most interesting creature, she did not say very much but I believe that she accepts Gandalf’s theory.” Fili said as he shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun.

“That is good to hear about Tauriel. Erebor is looking more impressive with each visit. It must please you to be in the home of your ancestors.” He revered.

“Ay, it does. How is Sigrid? I mean, how is your family. I hope they are well.” Fili stammered.

“They are well. Sigrid is natural leader. She is handling the needs of the citizens with grace and poise.” He beamed with pride as he spoke.

“Please give her my regards. Safe travels, King Bard.” Fili nodded stoically.

He mounted his horse, Inglor the magnificent white stallion, and considered waiting for Thranduil to ride back with him, but from the looks of it, his friend was otherwise occupied by the elven guard who accompanied Lady Galadriel from Lothlorien. The fair and blonde elf, Haladir, certainly seemed to know The Elven King well, as they had greeted each other fondly and had spent a considerable amount of time in each other’s presence. _They are the same kind; naturally he would seek out the company of those most like himself._ He pursed his lips as he thought. _You are not his equal, nor will you ever be._ He kicked his heels into Inglor and rode back towards the city, alone. _Haladir is immortal, you are a mortal man doomed to die._ That thought loomed in his mind and he tried to deduce exactly why he was so thoroughly perturbed by Thranduil’s reaction to Haladir’s arrival.

The city of Dale, while seven days ago was nothing but an empty shell, began to take back some of its former grandness as its gate came into view; collapsed towers were being reformed amid scaffolds, houses were erected for the weary citizens and the once demolished market place was slowly taking form as a bustling city-center once more. He could not deny that none of this would have been possible without aid from The Woodland Realm. Inglor kicked up dirt as they sped over the road connecting Erebor and Dale; he was not accustomed to riding a horse, but Inglor was a gift from Thranduil, and he was thankful for such a worthy companion.

He rode by a field that was being tended by some of the former citizens of Laketown; the earth, once overgrown with neglect, now torn up and prepared to be sown with seeds and the promise of a fruitful harvest.

“Good day, King Bard.” The citizens gathered and called out to him as he approached.

“My friends, I am not a king.” He muttered softly as the field workers paused to hear his words. “Tell me, how goes the seeding of the fields? Is the soil plenty fertile to yield enough crops to feed the town?”

“My lord, the soil has been successfully tilled and is ready for planting. This terrain is soft and seems well enough for growing. With some hard work and rain, we should have wheat in 4 months time.” A man who was covered in dirt replied eagerly.

“Excellent news. Well done turning this field and should you require more strong backs and willing hands, King Thorin has offered the services of the dwarves from the Ironhills, they will arrive by week’s end.” He relayed the information and bid the workers farewell.

 _King Bard_. He mused to himself as Inglor rode swiftly towards the city. _The most reluctant king ever to rule._ While the townsfolk and the Mirkwood elves had taken to referring to him thusly, he was hardly convinced that he deserved the title and the position. _I am nothing more than a poor bargeman. How could I possibly rule over these good people?_ There was no time for him to self-doubt, as for the moment he arrived at the gates of Dale, he was inundated with requests for building supplies, approval of construction projects, and other matters related to the rebuilding. He spent the next several hours tending to various issues before allowing himself a moment to rest.

The demands of raising a kingdom left him tired and the pains in his stomach reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since dawn. He pushed open the door to the simple tent he and his family were staying in, and was greeted by his lovely daughter, Sigrid.

“Da! Welcome home! How was the council with the elves? Did you find out what happened to Kili and Tauriel?” Sigrid brimmed with excitement as she poured him a cup of tea.

“Yes and no, my love. You know how elves are- saying much without really saying anything at all.” He sighed as he sunk down into a well-worn chair. He looked around the tent for the whereabouts of his other daughter. “Where has Tilda wandered off to this evening?”

“She is helping with the horses. I heard one of the mares Thranduil’s elves brought is about to give birth to a new foal, and Tilda doesn’t want to miss a moment. You know how she is with animals, Da.” Sigrid said as she pulled her long, light brown curls up off of her neck and secured them back with a ribbon.

“The council was rather divided in opinion; most did not believe that Kili was in fact dead. Lady Galadriel seemed convinced though, at least I think she was. Who can say what is in the hearts and minds of elves.” He grimaced as his thoughts strayed back to Thranduil.

“Not so for King Thranduil, he is not one to speak in riddles or mix words. What does he make of all of this?” She asked while placing a portion of meat and bread on a plate.

“I do not suppose he cares too much either way. I hardly spoke to him at the council.” He tried to conceal the disappointment in his words.

“That is a surprise to hear. You two seem so close.” She winked and it made him wonder what his daughter meant by that comment. “Oh, did Bain find you yet? The plans for the Great Hall require your approval and the builders want to begin construction. Also, Mister Coran said to tell you that he can’t design you a palace if you keep rejecting all of his designs. But never mind all that, you should eat something first.” She presented him with a heaping plate of food and pulled up a chair beside him.

“A palace.” He scoffed. “I do not want nor need a palace or anything grand for that matter. I asked old Hamar Coran to draft plans for a small house, but he refuses to abide, saying that king needs an estate, not a modest dwelling. I am no king, Sigrid. I’m a simple man with simple needs. ”

“That’s why the people want you to be their king, Da; because you’re not demanding the title. They look to you because you are a leader, a strong decision maker who puts the needs of others before his own. When the dragon was destroying Laketown, you were the only one running into the fire, the only one willing to sacrifice his life. No one will soon forget that, nor should they. For what’s it worth, I think you’ll make a fine king.” Sigrid’s eye shone with love and admiration as she spoke.

“A man such as myself counts his riches not in gold, but in the love from his children, and I am a rich man indeed.” He reached for Sigrid’s hand and held it tightly for a moment. “Daughter, you are too good to me.”

“Feeling sentimental Da? You must be hungry! Please eat. One more thing, I’ve worked out the food rations and the elf Nremyn informed me that a second wagon of aid will arrive soon. He has been very helpful with the distributions, and we have a working system for keeping everyone feed and clothed. I shall miss him greatly when he leaves for Mirkwood.” She stood and kissed the top of his head as she walked away.

“You have done so well, and I am proud of how you’ve handled yourself. I have another thing to ask of you my child, if you will entreat your king to one more favor.” He swallowed the rest of his tea before continuing. “I would ask you to be my emissary to Erebor. You would travel there, when needed, to seek an audience with King Thorin. I trust you to speak for me and to act on Dale’s behalf, as I know you will serve the city well. What do say?”

“You want me to go to Erebor in your place? Why?” She asked, slightly taken aback at his request.

“Because I will have other obligations to tend to here, and because you’re infinitely better at politics with dwarves than I could ever hope to be.” He grinned at her.

“Very well then, Da. I will be your emissary to Erebor if that is your will.” She cast her eyes towards the floor and blushed slightly. The rise in her color made him wonder exactly what it was about Erebor that could produce such a reaction in his daughter. “How are the dwarves finding the Kingdom Under the Mountain? I imagine there is much rebuilding to be done.” She asked quickly as she attempted to compose herself.

“The dwarves are an industrious race, and they will be completed with their work long before we are here. Thorin offered us assistance with sowing the fields and cutting stone. I imagine he wants to make recompense for his behavior before the battle.” He explained between bites.

“I’m certain he does, Da. Somehow I always knew that he would honor his word. So then, Tilda will certainly want to know how Kili is healing. She will also want news about Bofur and when he plans on making a visit to Dale.” The sound of her laughter always had a way of lifting his spirits.

“Fili mentioned that Kili is awake and that Tauriel is recovering. As for Bofur and the others, I did not see them on this trip.” He finished the remaining scraps of food on his plate and set the plate on the table.

“How is Fili?” She asked in such a way that made him pause.

“He is well enough. Actually, he asked me how you were fairing and sends his regards.” It was his turn to wink and he could not help but smile at Sigrid’s reaction to his words.

He stood and raised his arms in a stretch. “I should find Mister Coran and revisit those palace plans. I cannot see myself living in such a domicile, but perhaps we could find a compromise of sorts if I can incorporate elements of town affairs, such as a great hall for meetings and events. Goodbye my sweet child and make sure to give my love to Tilda when she returns from the stables.”

He easily found the architect and submitted to some of the plans, while amending others. If he was to be crowned King of Dale, he wanted to build a home in which his children and their children would be both safe and comfortable residing. _I just want to do right by my family._ He thought. _Give them a life that they deserve._

He sighed as rubbed at his sore shoulder, these days were getting longer and he was growing weary; there was still so much to be done and he wondered if he had the resolve to see it through. Once again, he found himself wandering through the ruins of what once was a garden; he enjoyed coming here in the evening and marveled in how the moon light illuminated the moss covered stone pillars and flourishing spiraling vines. He sat down on a bench and looked up at the night sky, watching the stars as they twinkled high above. His thoughts soon turned to his days as a bargeman: When he was standing on the deck of his boat, watching the way the water lapped against the rocks and the chill feeling of the crisp fall air.  

“I thought I might find you here.” The elegant deep voice of King Thranduil filled the ruins and caused the hair on his arms to rise.

“I like to come here at night. It’s a quiet and peaceful place.” He replied warmly.

“Would you prefer me to leave you to your solitude?” Thranduil asked as he walked out from the shadows.

“No, please stay. I enjoy your company and you are a welcome sight after such a long day.” He smiled at the sight of the elf.

“You looked lost in thought. I was hesitant to disturb you.” Thranduil approached slowly, his circlet shining in the moon light.

“I’m glad you did. I was just thinking about my life as a bargeman. Everything was simple then; no meetings, no rebuilding projects to oversee, no one looking to me to be their king.” He sighed once more and ran his hand through his hair. “So much has changed and it’s all a little overwhelming.”

“I became King of The Woodland Realm when my father died. I knew one day that I would inherit the throne, but I still felt unprepared when it happened. Time and experience will change your feelings. You are not entirely unprepared; I saw you negotiating with Thorin back at Erebor as well as making decisions about construction plans here in the city. You are a born leader, whether you believe it or not.” Thranduil swept across the stone floor as he spoke.

“I wish I had your confidence.” He shook his head.

“I wish you did not run out of Erebor without me. Are the elven kind really so loathsome that you felt the need to flee at the first opportunity?” Thranduil chided.

“You appeared to be otherwise engaged in conversation. I though you would prefer the company of your own kind to mine.” He suddenly felt awkward and self-conscious over his reveal.

“Despite what you think, I do not prefer their company. Haladir and I fought side by side an age ago, and I have not seen him since.” Thranduil lifted his glorious eyebrow as he spoke. “If you must know, we talked politics mostly; a dreadfully boring conversation.”

“I apologize for leaving you then. I believed you were more interested in spending time with the fair Haladir.” He confessed reluctantly.

“Fair Haladir?” Thranduil quipped as he whipped around to face him, his face locked in a smirk. “More fair than I?”

“My Lord Thranduil, none are fairer than you.” He burst out laughing and the strain of tension between them eased. Thranduil allowed a smile to escape from his lips.

“You are too good to me, Bard, King of Dale.” The Elf King said as he brushed the back from his face.

He watched Thranduil’s long and delicate fingers flow easily through his long silver hair that was alight with the glow of the moon. In that one moment, he hadn’t a care in the world; in that moment, his life was perfect.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Tauriel**

The tranquil quiet of sleep was abruptly broken by the sound of arguing just outside the bedroom door. She could distinctly make out two voices of dwarves she had grown accustomed to seeing, Dori and Ori, and one she did not recognize.

“Thorin said we all must take watch over them, and she should not be left alone.” The voice belonging to Dori said in a protesting manner.

“Tell Thorin that I’m no one’s nursemaid!” The mystery voice roared.

“Tell him yourself if you must. He is your King and you should abide by his wishes. She saved a Prince of Durin, she deserves your respect!” Dori, known for his kind disposition and demeanor, yelled right back.

“It’s not so bad really, watching over her, most of the time she is sleeping. I find it relaxing to talk to her, tell her stories about Durin folk and about the quest. You should tell her stories about Kili and when he was young, she’ll like to hear them.” Ori’s sweet and quiet voice quipped.

“Fine. But do not be too long.” The stranger conceded and she heard the door to her room open and close with a hushed thud and the stomping of heavy feet as they approached her bedside. The dwarf did not sit down, as many of the others chose to; instead he preferred to lean against the wall. She knew that this dwarf was not keen on her, and she could hear him muttering to himself in his secret dwarf language. She kept her eyes closed; she had neither the strength nor the desire to engage him in conversation. Rather, she decided to fain sleeping in order to keep his distemper at bay.

For a long while, he said nothing as he remained motionless in the corner. She had almost drifted back to sleep when the low rumblings of his deep voice filled her ears.

“Ori says I should talk to you. I should tell you stories of us and our ways.” He began. “I suppose you’ve heard a great deal about Kili when he was a lad. I’ve known him his entire life. I was there the night he was born; that terrible night we almost lost both him and Dis. I was there when Thorin delivered the news of his father’s death. He was just a wee bearn when it happened; not able to understand that his Da was gone forever.  I was there the when Vili died, I held him in my arms as he took his final breath and I’ll never forgive myself for how it happened.

You see, Vili and I grew up together; all of us did really, Thorin, Frerin, Dis, Vili, Nori and I. My father was King Thror’s personal guard, so I spent my days learning how to fight alongside the other sons of important dwarf houses. Even Dis would fight with us, despite her being a princess and all, she refused to be pampered and doted on. She would say; “Leave the circlets and crowns for the elves, I’m a dwarf, and dwarves fight.” She’s a feisty one that Dis. I tell you, she was quite a sight with a dagger in each hand! We lads knew well enough not to provoke her, as she would jest that she needed two knives to cut off our two…well, Dis was never one for niceties. You’ll see soon enough when she gets here.

Anyway, I got on fine with Throin, Frerin, Dis, even Nori who is a sneaky bastard, but Vili and I, we were born rivals. Vili was mischievous and a prankster, he would always try to pull one over on me. He even braided my hair in a womanly way after I got drunk and fell asleep. I went around like that for three days before someone plucked up the courage to tell me. I was plenty upset and rightfully so, yet in the end, I never could stay mad at him for long.

Though Vili was the shortest of us all, he was a fierce, intuitive and talented fighter and outside of Thorin, the only other dwarf ever to beat me in the fighting pits. I did not like to lose, but Vili had a humble way about him; never one to boast or carry on about his winnings. After he beat me, he would grab my arm and help me to my feet, dust me off and then give me a nod.   Then we’d all share a drink together and he would sing, Mahal what a voice he had! Thorin would play his harp and Vili would sing. That was the way of it for the longest time.

Then Smaug arrived and drove us from our home. Frerin died in the battle for Moria, and none of us ever really recovered from the losses, least of all Thorin, who blamed himself for Frerin’s death. Frerin was the one who held us all together, he, Vili and Nori were close, as Thorin and I have always been. The days of song and laughter were gone. Those were dark days. Dark days indeed.” The dwarf paused to silently reflect on the past.

“Eventually, we settled in the Blue Mountains and I took work as a blacksmith alongside Thorin, and I became his guard and swore to protect him as best I could. Nori, in his efforts to run from his grief, took to stealing from the likes of men. Dis did some work as a seamstress in the village. Vili set to train the young dwarves in the art of combat, preparing them for a time when we would regain our homeland.

The rivalry between Vili and I shifted as we got older and we found ourselves competing for more than just glory in the pits; and against Thorin’s wishes, he ended up winning her too. It was too much for me, and I couldn’t get past it. Like a fool, I thought Vili had stolen the life I was meant to have; that he had come between me and what should have been mine. I was angry and jealous, and for a good long while, I turned my back on Vili.

And then Fili was born, and something inside of me changed. There are not too many dwarf babes born, probably on account of there not being too many dwarf women. Despite my jealousy, I went to see the baby and saw straight away he was the spitting image of Vili; right down to the blonde hair and small bearing. Seeing the new prince reminded me of a time when the Kingdom of Erebor was the greatest in all Middle Earth and we dwarves were a proud people. I wanted him to grow up running through the halls of his ancestors, to know the might of the Line of Durin. In spite of myself, I loved that wee lad.

The night Kili was born, Dis had labored for hours and the midwives were worried because he was stuck, on account of him being quite large. Vili paced the halls all night, Thorin and I sat up with him, all sick with worry. We heard nothing but screams coming from her room, then all at once, silence. We feared the worst. Thorin made a sound like I’d never heard before, and Vili nearly collapsed. Then we heard a baby cry, and a midwife burst through the door to announce the birth of a new prince. What a sight he was; much too long and nearly hairless, save for a layer of black fuzz of his head, long pointy ears that stuck out too far and those huge, dark brown eyes that were much too big for his face. He was the ugliest baby I’d ever laid eyes upon!

 

One day a rider came into town and we received word that Dain Ironfoot of the Iron Hills was under siege by orcs. Dain is Thorin’s cousin and kin is kin, so we rallied the fighters and left to defend Dain’s keep. During the battle, we faced terrible odds and were greatly outnumbered. There were so many orcs, I could not see clearly around me. I did not see the arrow as it sailed towards me, but Vili did. Without a thought or a moment’s hesitation, he threw himself in front of me and the arrow struck him in chest. Everything immediately following is a blur. The only thing I can recall is seeing my friend lying on the ground. I held him and screamed for help, but there was nothing that could have been done to save him. Vili knew it too. He looked up at me and smiled. He told me to watch after his family, and I promised that I would.   The last words he ever said were ‘Tell Dis I love her.’

When we returned to the Blue Mountains, I stood beside Thorin as he told Dis that Vili had died. I have seen much sadness and suffering in my time, but her scream will haunt me for the rest of my life. I realized that I had never stood a chance with her; that she and Vili had been in love since they were children and that they were meant to be together. I was the one who got in the way of that. After that, I set out to watch over those boys; to try to make up for the fact that their father was dead and I was the reason why.

When I look at Fili, he is the spitting image of Vili; the same long blond hair, the same gait and build, his fighting skills and his unselfishness are all Vili. While Kili has his father’s heart, his sense of mischief, his gift of song and his wild spirit. I watched them as they grew, and I loved them as if they were my own sons. I’m never going to get on with you girl, but I am plenty grateful for you.” He finished his story and she could hear him slump back against the wall quietly. He remained there until a soft rapping at the door broke the silent spell they were under.

“We’ve finished clearing the debris from the Hall of Kings. I’m afraid the floor will remain encased in gold, but it should serve as a reminder of the stand we dwarves took against Smaug. How is she doing?” Dori’s voice asked.

“Sleeping still. I am done with babysitting, and I’ll have no more of it.” The dwarf replied.

“Understood. Go on now Mister Dwalin, I need to make sure she eats something.” Dori politely shooed the dwarf away.

 _“Dwalin!” s_ he thought to herself. “ _So that is the dwarf Kili was telling me about.”_ She smiled to herself at the thought of Kili. She had heard from Fili that he was healing, and all she wanted was to see him again; to feel his arms wrap around her. _“Soon,”_ she thought. _“Not soon enough.”_

**Sigrid**

_He wants me to be his emissary to Erebor!_ She could hardly contain her excitement as she walked through the streets, smiling at the prospect of seeing Fili again.

“My Lady Sigrid!” Nremyn called out to her, descending from the steps of a scaffold.

“Nremyn! You startled me.” She giggled as her new friend suddenly appeared before her.

“I apologize, My Lady. I merely wanted to notify you that the ration wagon is scheduled to arrive by tomorrow afternoon. Hatharal says it contains some fine fabric that is meant for you and your family, you are meant to make yourself a dress befitting a princess.” He said as he smiled at her.

“You elves are much too kind.” She mused. “But I cannot begin to think about fine gowns until Dale is restored and all its citizens are living comfortably.”

“A rare woman you are, My Lady.” Nremyn bowed his head before her.

“Come with me as I make my way through the town?” She begged.

“As you wish, Sigrid. If I may be so bold, you seem rather distracted tonight.” The elf said as he picked up several baskets filled with bread.

“Perhaps I am. Father asked me to be his emissary to Erebor; a task of great importance.” She declared as she handed out a loaf of bread to a mother holding a small child.

“Erebor! Have you heard any word of Tauriel? I much desire to see her.” Nremyn paused in the street.

“Yes, Da said that she has finally awoken and continues to recover. He said that Lady Galadriel believes Gandalf’s theory. It’s all so very exciting.” She distributed another loaf to an elderly man sitting in a doorway.

“I am pleased to hear that Tauriel is recovering. No one deserves happiness more than her. Do you think Thorin will permit a marriage?” He asked.

“I imagine he will have no choice in the matter. I very much look forward to a wedding!” She beamed as she an image of Fili flashed in her mind. “I wonder what a dwarf wedding is like. I imagine it will be a grand affair considering that Kili is a prince.” She smoothed her hair in an effort to calm her racing heart.

“I have no experience with dwarf weddings, but elves do not usually celebrate in the same manner as men do. Our ways are more reserved and private, unless of course they are an elf of great importance.” He explained. “I remember when King Thranduil married Lady Elarinya; for three days and nights we celebrated with song and wine. She was so beautiful and he was so happy. But that was long ago and Mirkwood has not had any cause to celebrate in many ages, not since Lady Elarinya’s death.”

“How terrible her passing must have been for King Thranduil.” She felt a deep sadness towards the Elf King and hoped that brighter days were on the horizon for him.

“But let us not dwell on ill times. The city is beginning to look as it once was and prosperity shall return to these walls once more.” Nremyn said as he handed her a second bread basket.

“First we need to get through this first winter. I hope the ration cart arrives soon, as our stores are running low. Da says if we can get the crops planted by week’s end, we should be able to manage.” She knew if the city was indeed to rise once more, the citizens needed to be healthy and strong in order to see it done.

“You will need more than bread to get through the winter.” Nremyn sighed knowingly.

She finished distributing the remaining loaves of bread and said good evening to her elf friend. She walked out in the cool air and looked to The Lonely Mountain; her thoughts turned to Fili and she longed to see him again. _I am certain Erebor would be willing to entertain the notion of a hunting party for our mutual benefit. I shall take it up with Da in the morning._ The idea excited her, and she hoped that her father would agree to send her to the King Under the Mountain for council.


	27. Chapter 27

**Thorin**

The days were long and the work was difficult, but much progress had been made in removing the debris and repairing the damaged pillars within Erebor. While he was within his authority to delegate the heavy lifting to others, he found he rather enjoyed the strenuous labor.

“We will fortify the southern wall today. There are considerable structural issues that need tending to in the event of another attack.” He said to Dwalin and Dain. “Summon Fili. He has played nursemaid long enough.”

“I’ll do it. He will not be happy to be leaving Kili’s side though.” Dwalin groaned.

“I know, but work will do him good. Besides, Kili is well enough now. Dain, have the furnaces been mended and cleaned yet?” He asked.

“Yes Thorin, and I’ve told my men to play nice with the villagers.” Dain roared with laughter.

“My King Thorin!” Ori called as he ran into the room. The young dwarf’s face pale and he was most out of breath.

“What is it Ori?” His voice filled with concern.

“She is here.” Ori stuttered.

He took a deep breath in and stood up slowly. “Where is she now?” He asked.

“In the Hall of Kings. Thorin, she is not happy.” Ori whispered.

“I suppose she is not. Dwalin, summon Fili now. Let’s get this over with.” He grumbled as he tore out of the room.

He crossed the threshold that filtered into the Hall of Kings and his breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of her; statuesque and proud with steely, crisp blue eyes like his. She stood, arms crossed, scowling at Dori as he did his best to entertain her.

“Welcome, my sister, to Erebor.” He approached her with reservation, as he knew she would not be in good spirits.

“Thorin, where are my sons?” Her voice was punctuated and sharp.

“Hello to you too, sister.” He muttered under his breath, unsure how he was going to approach the subject of Kili with her.

“Mum!” Fili’s voice echoed through the hall as he ran towards her.

“ _My lion heart_!” She wailed in khuzdul. She wrapped her arms around her eldest son and held him close. “My boy, my precious son! How well you look. Thin, but I suppose that is to be expected.” She said as she inspected Fili. Her head looked up, searching behind him for his ever constant companion, but he was not in sight. “Fili, where is your brother? Where is my Kili?” Panic filling her eyes.

“Mum, he’s alive, just recovering. But there’s something you must know.” Fili began. “He was injured, severely and…”

“Dis, we need to talk, privately.” His tone turned serious as he attempted to calm his sister.

“Take me to my son now, Thorin.” Her jaw clenched as her eyes bore into his.

“Very well.” He conceded. There was no use arguing with her; she had a fierce temper and would not be pacified until she laid her eyes upon Kili. “This way. Fili, come with us.”

Fili wrapped his arm around Dis as he helped her through the halls towards Kili’s room. They arrived outside the door and he held his breath for a moment before entering. This was not going to be easy to explain to her, but if anyone could sway her heart, it was Kili.

 

**Tauriel**

She opened her eyes when she heard the sound of voices outside of the door; one of the voices she recognized as Dori’s while the other had a higher pitch, possibly belonging to a woman. The higher pitched voice spoke with an assured authority, strong and commanding, as she spoke to the unfailingly polite Dori. The door burst open and in walked a dwarf she had never seen before, yet so familiar she could not believe what her eyes were seeing. The woman was dressed in regal blue with flourishes of golden threads, her thick, black hair swept back in complicated braids, sharp and intense blue eyes stared at her, unflinching, and her expression fierce and cold.

“So you’re the elf.” The dwarf woman said with a scowl.

“You must be Kili’s mother.” She replied.

“Yes. I am Lady Dis. Stand up now, let me have a look at you.” She commanded as she strode proudly into the chamber.

Tauriel gathered her strength and slowly stood up; tall, graceful and still elegant despite her ordeal.

“You’re shorter than I expected.” Dis remarked as circled her, expressionless, as she examined Tauriel’s hands. “You’re no princess. Just look at those calluses! You’re so gaunt and pale.” She chided as she beheld the elf.

“I am tall enough.” She quipped; trying to find the courage to defend herself.

“Red hair? That is uncommon among your kind. I imagine not a desirable color.” Dis did not give her the chance to respond as she was busy shouting to the figure looming outside of the doorway. “Dori! Bring her a proper meal.”

“I imagine you cannot go back to Thranduil now.” The powerful dwarf woman stared at her, and while she was much shorter than the elf, she was intimidating in stature.

“No. I cannot ever go back.” She said softly.

“Here you are My Lady Dis. Will you require a cup of tea Tauriel?” Dori asked sweetly as he reappeared with a tray full of food.

“Thank you Dori, bring the tea and that will be all for now.   Make sure the room is ready, we will be headed there soon.” Dis said as she sent Dori away. “You, eat this. All of it.” She said as she motioned to Tauriel.

She did not hesitate as the rumble of hunger festered within her, she could not deny that she was in need of nourishment beyond bread and fruit. Dis sat silently in the chair next to her bed as she ate.

“Come now. From the looks of it, you have not had bathed in ages. Follow me.” Dis stated as she stood up and began to leave the room. Tauriel forced herself up and used her strength to, for the first time, emerged from the dark room she had occupied for weeks.

The halls were illuminated with torches; spectacular carved walls, seemingly endless, sprawled before her as she gingerly followed behind the dwarf. They entered a large, steaming room she assumed was a bath house and the arid climate caused her skin to dimple.

“How do you remove this foul thing?” Dis asked as she pulled at Tauriel’s dress. Cautiously, Tauriel removed the blood stained uniform from her days of Captain of the Guard, days long since passed, and stood before the dwarf woman naked.

“Mahal girl! You have as many scars as my sons!” Dis yelled at the sight of her nude body. “Get in the water.”

Tauriel slipped into the heated bath without hesitation; allowing herself to revel in the warm sensation as it cradled her battered body. She closed her eyes and brought a splash of water up against her face, feeling the stream run off her chin and down her chest.

“Lie back.” Dis ordered as she began to dump jars of water atop Tauriel’s head, washing away the weeks of sweat, dirt, tears and blood that had caked onto her body.

“Your hair is quite matted. It’s going to take some time to clean.” Dis muttered under her breath as she poured scented oils into the mass of red hair, working it into a creamy lather. Tauriel kept her eyes closed as she focused on the strong hands pulling and tugging on her tresses. She could not read the stoic dwarf, and wondered if she would ever accept her.

“Stand up. “ Dis stated as she pulled on the elves arms, lifting her with ease out of the bath. She wrapped a blanket around her wet body and walked over a table to retrieve something Tauriel could not make out.

“Put this on. Dori made it, although I imagine it is going to be too large, as you are quite the frail creature.” The dwarf held out a long, deep blue gown unlike any Tauriel had ever seen before. The fabric was plush, quite different from the silken garments of The Woodland Realm, with ornate embroidering and delicate beading.

“Is this for me?” She asked dumbfounded, confused about gift.

“Hurry up now, we do not have all day.” Dis barked as she laced the back of the dress. “Turn around, let me have a look.”

Dis led her back into her chamber and finished dressing the elf. “Sit down. Your hair needs work.” Dis said as she began to pull on the long strands of Tauriel’s hair. As she worked, she began to speak.

“When my husband died in battle, I was left to raise my sons alone. With Fili, he was strong and fierce, everything came easily to him; he was just like his father. I raised him to be hard, and in his heart was a sense of duty and loyalty to a fault. It was easy, to raise such a child, he grew to be a proper dwarf.

With Kili, everything was different. He was different. My youngest son had the heart of a dreamer, sensitive and kind. When he was young, I often found myself wondering about the many, many ages ago, when dwarves and elves were not enemies, but allies. I wondered if somehow, that within my son, there lived a long forgotten piece of that age, a remnant of that old alliance. A child, in a mother’s eyes, is beautiful beyond compare. But where I saw beauty, others saw ugliness, and they never let Kili forget that.” Dis allowed her eyes to stare off into the distance as she spoke.

“Kili was born reckless. But he always had the greatest and noblest of intentions, fearless and selfless to the point where it almost got him killed quite a few times. But he was brave and would do anything to protect the ones he loved. One such time was when he and Fili wandered off into the woods during that long, hard winter of starvation.

I often think back upon that winter whenever I would worry about my sons on their quest to reclaim Erebor. They were young then, still boys in many ways; foolhardy and courageous, but stupid. The dwarves of the Blue Mountains were struggling then; for the frost had come early that year, and destroyed much of our food.   We were starving, and the grip of winter left many dwarves on the verge of death.

My son, the archer, convinced his brother to slip out into the forest to hunt for food. They had no concept of how dangerous the forest could be for two young boys: the cold, wolves, falling branches, getting lost even. No, they only thought of their mother, thin and weak from hunger and how they could not allow her to die.

They left before the dawn, armed with knives and arrows against the terrible woods, and they were not seen for two days. Two very long days and nights. I was beside myself, believing that I had lost the only precious things worth living for, I cried until I could not breathe. Thorin was desperate; he himself went out looking for them, but to no avail. We thought them dead.

On the third day, my sons emerged from the woods: cold and weary, but behind them, dragging two dead deer. Fili tracked and Kili shot them. I could not see that my boys had risked their lives for our people, that they had secured food that would feed many thought that long winter. I only saw my children; my beloved sons who I thought were dead, turn into men before my eyes. Never have I been so proud of them, nor so angry. I ran to them, desiring nothing more than to hold them in my arms, and I wanted to scream at them, to scold them for being so reckless. Then Kili smiled at me, and all my rage melted away.” Her voice broke at the recollection of her youngest son; her beacon of light against the bleakness of winter.

She took a deep breath before she spoke again. “My Kili is dear to me beyond words. I only want what is best for him. I hope you understand that child.”

“I do.” She said as the dwarf, now finished with her hair, stood up and began to leave. “Lady Dis,” She started. “I love him and I always will. I do not care how hard our life will be or how hated I am. I am his and he is mine, and nothing will ever change that.” Tauriel stared at her, raising her head and stretching her back, asserting her own strength as she defied the dwarf woman.

Dis stared right back at her, and for the first time, a slight smile breached her face. “I know.” She said as she closed the door, leaving Tauriel alone with her thoughts. What more could she do to convince the dwarf woman of her convictions? She felt frustration creep upon her, until a gentle knock at the door snapped her back to reality.

“Come in.” She called and the door opened slowly, revealing a most wondrous sight that sent her heart racing and tears welling in her eyes. He stood taller than she remembered; stunningly handsome, he wore a blue tunic matching her own, adorned with golden embellishments far more ornate than any she had seen before. His hair, usually a disheveled mess, now tamed and carefully braided set with jewels.

“Kili” She gasped.

They took a few tentative steps towards each other, and then their feet barely touched the ground as they fell into each other’s arms, hugging and crying until they were a heap upon the floor.

“You are so beautiful my love.” He cooed as he cupped her face and covered her in sweet, tender kisses, murmuring dwarvish endearments. She laughed, the first laugh in ages, as he whispered into her sensitive ears.

“My love! Your hair!” He gasped as he beheld the intricate braids set atop her head, tears spilling from his eyes as he silently admired.

“Your mother did it.” She said softly as she brushed the tears from his cheeks with her fingers.

“I know she did. Did she tell you what it means?” He asked breathlessly as she shook her head.

He carefully lifted the braids, revealing to her the meaning behind each one. “This one means “brave warrior”, this one “fearless” and this means “noble sacrifice”.” He paused before reaching for the largest, most elaborate braid. He swallowed hard as tears once again filled his eyes. “This one, amralime, means “beloved daughter”.” He pressed his forehead against hers, and it was her turn to allow tears to flow down her cheeks and splash against the deep blue of her gown. Kili continued whispering his love as he stroked her hair. She allowed the tears to continue as the feeling of overwhelming joy consumed her as she lay, safe and loved, in his arms.

 


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

_The chapter comes with a rated M warning_

**Kili and Tauriel**

For a while, she allowed her head to rest upon his chest; comforted by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the pounding thud of his heart. He was alive. She had never felt more thankful for anything in all her life, and while her immortality was gone, she did not for one moment regret her decision.

A sharp knocking upon the door broke the spell they were under, and a voice beckoned them that they needed to ready themselves for the gathering.

“Come now, my darling. We have official duties to perform.” He said as he brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek.

“What duties?” She asked with a curious laugh.

“Tonight Thorin is welcoming the important dwarf families to Erebor and he will be receiving their tribute. All must pay their respect and financial compensation for the reclamation of our homeland.” He explained. “After their tribute as been accepted, the dwarf family is permitted to take up residence here.”

“And am I expected to pay tribute? I have nothing to offer.” She said with a hint of fear.

“No my love, you have given too much.” He said sadly as his eyes shifted towards the ground.

“Kili, I would do it again and again. It was my choice to make.” She stroked her long fingers against the side of his cheek. The brush of her hand caused his eyes to close as she continued to slide her thumb along face.

“And I am forever grateful for you. You have saved me once again my darling.” He said warmly as he smiled at her. “That is why I want you beside me when Thorin accepts the tributes.”

She swallowed hard before continuing. “Perhaps it would be best for me to remain behind while you stand with your family.”

“I will not have you hide away! I do not care what anyone else has to say, I love you and I want all to know.” He grinned once more, lighting up his face with his illuminating smile. “Besides, tonight will be your first dwarven feast, and what a feast it shall be. I would not have you miss such a party.”

“If that if you will, My Prince, than who am I to deny your request?” She teased lovingly.

“There is one more thing, if you will permit me to be so bold?” He asked in such a shy manner, she could not help but delight in his humility.

“What is it, my love?” She implored.

“I have a gift for you- a symbol really. In dwarf culture, braids represent status and family association, beads and other hair adornments mean the same as well. However, the Line of Durin has their own stones that represent individual family members: Thorin, King of Durin, is symbolized by the Arkenstone and all gems white and pure; he is the shining and guiding light of the family. My mother, Dis, the fertility and purveyor of the Line of Durin and is represented by the sapphire; the blue color worn by our people, Durin’s folk, lives on thanks to her. My brother, Fili, the heart and bloodline of Durin, is the deep and rich red ruby. I am the spirit and soul of the Line of Durin, I am represented by the vibrant green of the emerald.” He explained as he braided a large section of her hair.

“I want you to wear this. It is a symbol of me and my love for you. I should give it to you when things between us are more official and formal, but considering the circumstances, I think now is an appropriate time.” His face turned serious as he presented her with a hair fastener like none she had seen before; a large golden clip in the shape of a crescent moon adorned with dozens of sparkling emeralds that glittered in the soft glow of the candle light.

“Kili, it is beautiful!” Her fingers trembled as she held the treasure.

“My father made it for my mother after I was born, as I came into the world under the crescent moon. I knew that someday it would be mine; mine to give to the one I love.” His eyes stared into hers as he spoke, unafraid and confident in his tone.

“I do not know what to say.” She gasped softly.

“Will you wear it? Will you outwardly show my love for you? Everyone will see it and know what it means. They will know that you and I are…well.” He blushed as he fumbled for words. He cleared his throat before speaking again. “That our fates and our lives are bound together through our love and that I am devoted to you and only you, for as long as I live.”

She took a moment to process all that he was saying. “Yes Kili, I will wear this precious symbol of your love and I shall wear it proudly. I am yours and you are mine.” She smiled at him as she handed him back the clip. He fastened it at the top of the braid he had woven into her hair and pulled the strip of hair over her shoulder.

“ _Perfect.”_ He whispered in his language and a charming grin settled on his face once more. “Amralime, you are perfect.” He kissed her gently once more before taking her arm and leading her from the safety and privacy of her chamber and into the unknown of the dwarven kingdom.

She held his arm tightly as they walked together, the endless corridor emptied into a large waiting room where several of the dwarves she recognized were gathered. Thorin stood alongside the hobbit, Lady Dis and Fili stood beside a rotund dwarf with whom she was not acquainted. Beside the unknown dwarf stood an equally rotund younger dwarf who scowled when she caught his eye.

Kili, undeterred, approached his mother and brother with excitement. “Tauriel, it pleases me to introduce you to Dain Ironfoot from the Ironhills. He is Thorin’s cousin and our closest ally. This is his nephew, Nain of the Ironhills.” He revered.

“I am pleased to meet you.” She said tenuously, uneasy about how she would be received.

“I know right well who you are, malady. I reckon you’re quite the celebrity around these parts.” Dain’s voice, heavy with accent, thundered as he spoke. “And it is a pleasure to finally meet you.” A hearty laugh erupted from his throat as he took her hands into his, giving them an approving squeeze.

“Nain, take your head out of your ass and say hello to the lady.” Dain scolded to the younger dwarf.

“Pleasure.” Nain muttered as his eyes cast downwards.

“Kili my lad, it is good to see you up and about.” Dain patted Kili’s back.

“Let’s get this over with.” Thorin grumbled from the other side of the room. “Come on.” He gestured to the hobbit before he burst through the closed door, revealing a large gathering of dwarves in one of the many great halls. The commotion on the other side of the partition over Thorin’s appearance caused her heart to race.

“After you, my lads.” Dain cheered as he pushed Fili and Kili towards the door. Kili turned and gave her a smile before being thrust out into the fray.

She felt a wave of panic come over her, as she watched him leave, and wondered how she would find the courage to enter an assembly of dwarves. Her will was leaving her when she suddenly felt a hand grip her arm.

“You will be walking with me. The men make a damn spectacle of themselves, but we are the ones who command the respect.” Dis said dryly as she stood perfectly straight and still.

“Lady Dis. Thank you.” She whispered as she took a deep breath in and walked through the doorway and into the assembly. All cheers and commotion silenced as she took those first tenuous steps; all eyes fell upon her statuesque figure as she appeared alongside Lady Dis. Her heart beat so loudly inside her chest that she feared all might hear it echoing throughout the cavernous room.

“Announcing Lady Dis and Lady Tauriel.” A voice called out heralding their arrival and gradually, the dwarven gathering came alive once more; this time much more reserved and stoic.

“They’re all staring at me.” She whispered to Dis.

“Yes. Hold your head high girl, you have earned the right to be here and no one can take that from you.” Dis replied unflinchingly.

“They hate me.” She muttered.

“Probably, but none will dare say a word against you. Ah, look there.” Dis said as she gestured towards the end of the procession. Kili stood, beaming with joy and pride, as he watched her walk toward him.

“Kili.” She gasped softly as she beheld him; he looked radiant bathed in the fire light. She locked eyes with him and suddenly she felt weightless as she glided along.

“I see he couldn’t wait to give that to you.” Dis remarked, nodding towards the hair fastener.

“Yes.” She smiled as she touched the jewel encrusted pin in her hair.

“He is impatient that one.” She said as she shook her head. “It looks beautiful on you, Tauriel.” Her eyes, vivid and wild, misted as she spoke.

They reached Thorin and curtseyed gracefully before him. Kili stepped forward and took her hand as he led her to the spot beside him. How the assembly of dwarves reacted, she did not notice nor care; she held his fingers between hers and squeezed tightly. He winked at her and mouthed _I love you_. The dwarves were all standing now, actively cheering the return of The King Under the Mountain to Erebor. Part of her knew how important this moment in time was to the dwarves, but she could feel nothing except the glow of love for the one beside her.

“Welcome, dwarves of the Blue Mountains, to our rightful home of Erebor.” Thorin’s voice thundered and the gathering erupted in jubilation. Fili signaled for them to sit down at the table behind them, for it was time for Thorin to begin accepting tribute. One by one, dwarf families sent their delegates before the King to present their gifts, and Thorin accepted all graciously.

When all was finished, Thorin hollered, “Let the feast begin!” and plates upon plates of food began to flow into the great hall; dishes of strange meat and barrels of wine and mead she had never tasted before were placed down in front of her.

Kili was correct; the dwarf feast was unlike any she had ever seen before. Several dwarves began playing instruments, including Bofur whom she recognized from Laketown, and the music was lively and festive. There was dancing and drinking, feasting and fighting, lewd and lascivious behavior, sweet reunions and bitter rivalries rekindled; Erebor and its inhabitants were a rowdy group indeed, but she found herself enjoying every second.

“Come dance with me, my love.” Kili said as he grabbed her hand.

“I don’t know what to do!” She cried. “Will you show me?” She hesitated and drank the remainder of wine from her glass before following him nervously towards the dance pit.

“Just follow my lead.” He laughed while he wrapped his arm around her waist, turning her around and lifting her off the ground.

“Kili, everyone is staring at us.” She breathed into his ear.

“That is because they have never beheld a creature as beautiful as you in all their miserable lives.” He said while spinning her around once more. “Do not take it to heart; it’s me they take offense to. I’ve been the Elf Prince long before I met you and now that we are together, it just solidifies what they’ve always believed about me.”

“What is that my love?” She asked.

“That I’m more elf than dwarf I suppose.” He frowned slightly.

“Then that means that we are more alike than I thought. I knew there was a reason why I fell for you.” She said with a grin.

“For me, I needed no reason as I loved you the moment I first laid my eyes upon you.” He said as he kissed her cheek gently.

“Sentimental already. Are you drunk, my sweet love?” She giggled.

“Nah. I do not want to let my guard down, just in case someone decides to cause trouble for you. Besides, this night is special to me and I want to remember every moment.” He spun her once more and she could not help but beam. She was so distracted by him, she stumbled slightly.

“What’s wrong darling, do elves not dance?” He said with a wink.

“Oh we dance, but not nearly in such a boisterous manner.” She grimaced as she stepped on his foot, causing them both to lose their balance and nearly topple over. Fortunately, he was able to recover but not before crashing into an unfamiliar dwarf.

“Oy! Well look who finally decided to grace us with his presence.” The voice belonging to the younger dwarf hollered over the roar of the music.

“Well are you not a sight for sore eyes!” Kili called as he embraced his red-haired friend. “Tauriel, there is someone I want you introduce you to, he is one my oldest friends, Gimli son of…” Kili began.

“Gloin! You father told me stories about the trouble you two caused when you were younger.” She felt a flush of embarrassment rise in her cheeks, but whatever insecurities she might have felt, were washed away by Gimli’s reaction.

“He told you? Well this devil and I were known to pull a prank or two. I see you’ve managed to win more than just the mountain. It is good to meet you Tauriel. I heard a few stories about you as well.” Gimli chuckled as he bowed to her. “Pardon me, my lady, but would you mind if I took this idiot off your hands for a few. He left me behind and I want to be hearing all about his adventures.”

“Of course.” She said as she gave a quick kiss goodbye to Kili. She began to leave the dance floor, when Ori, who appeared just inebriated enough to forget his shyness, begged her for a dance. She swirled around the floor with Ori, followed by Fili, then Dori and several other young dwarves she did not recognize; much to the dismay of a group of elders frowning in the corner.  

“Forgive me, but I think I could use some much needed rest.” She said as she curtseyed to the fair-haired dwarf. She found a quiet seat and sat down, desperately trying to catch her breath.

“Mind if I sit with you?” The gentle voice belonging to the hobbit asked.

“Please do.” She smiled warmly.

“I do believe that we are the only non-dwarves here. Allow me to formally present myself; I am Bilbo Baggins resident burglar.” He mused.

“I am Taurel, resident elf I suppose.” She allowed herself to laugh freely and openly, unafraid of being too loose with her emotions. A scuffle between two intoxicated dwarves broke out momentarily, before both men fell over and began laughing. “They certainly are a lively race, are they not?”

“You don’t even know the half of it! I do not believe that Lord Elrond would ever have us back at Rivendell again.” Bilbo said wiping a tear from his eye as he laughed.

“I’m not sure I want to know.” She said shaking her head. Bilbo poured them both another glass of wine before turning somber.

“I know Thorin will never say it aloud, but he is grateful for you and what you did for Kili.” Bilbo’s eyes shone as he talked.

“You and Thorin are close, I see.” She smiled as she brushed her fingers along the simple white crystal bead hanging from a thin braid in the hobbit’s hair.

“How do you know that Thorin gave this to me?” He asked a bit bewildered.

“Kili told me that Thorin is represented by The Arkenstone and other white gems.” She said matter of factly as she took another sip from her wine goblet.

“I did not know that!” Bilbo cried out. “I spent two years with them traveling from one terrible peril to another. You think he would have mentioned it before. That’s the thing about dwarves though, they’re incredibly secretive.”

“Well he obviously cares about you if he gave this to you.” She could not help but notice the deep red settling upon the hobbit’s cheeks.

“He has never said as much.” Bilbo muttered under his breath.

“They can’t all be as bold as Kili, I suppose. I heard that Thorin plays the harp. Have you ever heard him play?” She felt at ease with Bilbo; as if she found in him a kindred spirit.

“I had heard from Bofur that he plays, but I have not had the privilege of hearing him yet. He sings too.” She could tell from the sound of his voice that Thorin meant a great deal to him, and she wondered exactly what was the nature of their relationship. “Be careful when listening to their singing; they have a way of charming you into doing things you normally would not.”

“Oh! Do tell.” She could hardly contain her own curiosity.

“Thorin sang the night the dwarves arrived at my home in The Shire. After the song, I drifted off to sleep; a fitful sleep filled with visions of a mountain and a roaring hearth. When I awoke, I felt my heart being pulled from me. I felt drawn to the mountain and to Thorin by some inexplicable magic. I knew then that I needed to fulfill my duty and that I needed to see the quest completed- else I would never sleep restfully again.” Bilbo’s eyes were focused solely on Thorin as he spoke. His voice seemed haunted with the memory of The Shire and what was once his life.

“There is magic in their songs then?” She whispered as she took another sip of wine.

“I don’t know. I know that I am not the same hobbit I once was. I used to be so sure about things; sure of my home in Bag End and that I was a proper and respectable Baggins. But now, I do not know what I want or where I belong. When I wander these halls, I feel as if I am home. This is not my home though and I am very much an outsider. I wonder if I belong anywhere now.” The hobbit stared into his glass of wine before taking a sip.

“Have you told Thorin any of this?” She asked tenderly.

“I do not wish to trouble him with my woes. He has enough to tend to, and I should be the least of his concerns.” He frowned.

“If you want my advice, and you do not have to take it, I think you mean more to him than you know and that he would want to hear your thoughts and feelings. You should talk to him.” She put her arm on the hobbit’s back.

Bilbo said nothing, but smiled slightly. She was struck by his sweetness and vulnerability; she had never met another of his kind before, but knew that he was somehow different. Special. She finished her glass of wine and poured herself and the hobbit another. “Come Bilbo, let us toast to the return of the King Under the Mountain and to happier days ahead.”

“Toasting to the King without me, my love?” Kili’s warm voice filled her ears and she felt his hand fall upon her shoulder. “Mister Baggins, would it be alright if I absconded with my beloved? There is something I need to show her.” He reached for her hand and with a giggle, led her away from the noise of the dwarven party to a more secluded area.

“I wanted to show you something special.” He was so excited, he could hardly contain himself.

“Are you certain this is not a ruse to get me alone?” She replied coyly.

“The thought had not crossed my mind, my love.” He teased right back, his cheek dimpling as he spoke. “It’s right through here.” He pushed through a small door leading outside the mountain to a hidden tower overlooking the valley as well as the City of Dale. She held her breath as the cool breeze tickled her ears and danced through her hair.

“This is an old lookout spot, but I figured that you would enjoy the unimpeded view of the stars.” He said as he tilted his head upwards.

She, too, turned her hear towards the sky and marveled over the dazzling array of gleaming stars as they shone high above. Being this high up over the trees reminded her of the nights she would walk through the forest and into the clearing just to be closer to the sacred lights of her people.

He took her hand once more, and looked adoringly up at her. “If you ever miss their light, you can come here. I know it is not the same as your home in Mirkwood, but I hope you…” He did not have the chance to finish, as while he spoke, she pressed her lips against his and fell into his arms. They curled together on the bench; his thick fingers gently stroked her back as she lay huddled against him. Her slender body felt small and fragile in his heavy arms. He took a deep breath in and began to hum a tune she was not familiar with. The vibrations produced by his voice tickled her ears and coursed through her like burning wild fire.

He began to sing words she could not understand for they were in the strange dwarf language, his language; guttural and harsh sounding when spoken by other dwarves, yet when coming from him, a gentle and delicate melody that was akin to the sweetest music.

She picked her head up from his chest and faced him as he sang, seduced completely by charm, she allowed her mouth to linger over his, interrupting the song. Her kiss caught him by surprise and she felt his breath catch as her mouth parted and she flicked the tip of her tongue between his lips. Softly and slowly, she pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth; causing him to produce a low moan at the sensation. She shuddered at hearing his delight and, wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him closer towards her.  

“Are you cold, Amralime? I should have brought you up a blanket. I am stocky and hairy, and I do not get cold easily.” He frowned, parting his lips from hers for a moment.

“I am not too cold, and don’t you dare move.” She could barely form the words before sliding her tongue back into his mouth. She straddled her legs around his hips, shifting her weight and pressing the weight of her body into his. The harder she pushed against him, the stronger the urge to be consumed by him completely.

She rolled her hips; falling into a slow rhythm as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging intently on his dark locks.

“Tauriel,” he whispered breathlessly. “Perhaps we should wait.”

“I do not want to wait any longer. I want to be with you. I want to lie with you and make you mine forever.” She purred into his ear.

“There is something I need to confess,” he drew back before speaking. “I have not lain with a woman before.” His eyes shifted to the ground.

“I have not been with anyone either. We shall learn from each other.” She said in a low voice, pressing her forehead against his.

“I want to be with you, but not here. I want you in my bed. I want to see you, all of you.” His eyes were serious and filled with desire.

“So be it then, my love.” She stood up and took his hand into hers and allowed him to lead her through the kingdom and to the archway of his private chambers.

He opened the door slowly, and paused before entering. “There is a dwarf custom,” he began. “The first night, the wife leads her husband into the room. He follows her only if she consents.”

She took a breath in and stepped over the threshold before reaching for his hand, ready to bring him into the room. She lit several candles, filling the room with ample light. She felt his eyes upon her as she moved about the room; watching her every move.

She pulled her hair over her shoulder and reached for the strings on the lacing of her dress. Kili approached her, lifting the long threads into his shaking hands and carefully pulling them through the eyelets that lined her back until they were completely undone. She allowed the gown to slip over her shoulders, giving him a tantalizing glimpse at her bare flesh.

He was hesitant to touch her, reaching out his fingers tentatively; almost certain that she would vanish into smoke and air before his eyes and he would find himself alone in his bed, sweaty and sticky, as he had so many times. His fingers brushed against the curve of her collarbone, and he felt the warmth of her body react to his touch. He traced along a pink scar that followed from her collarbone down her left arm and drew his finger away when he felt the fabric of her dress. He swallowed hard before raising his head to meet her gaze.

“I have scars too.” He murmured as he looked up with his wide, deep brown eyes.

“Show me.” She whispered.

He lifted his heavy, ornate tunic over his head, pulling his arms from the sleeves one after the other, until the garment hit the floor with a thud. His chest, an exquisite display of defined muscles, was speckled by dark, curly hair that trailed down his stomach, leading to an area she could not yet see.

“This one if from Goblin Town, when we were fighting to escape,” he said pointing to a dark purple line that continued around to his back. “This one is from when Fee and I were kids, his is worse than mine. I got into quite a few fights when I was a kid and Fee usually finished them for me. This one is from sparring. And this one, well you know how I got this one.” He shrugged as he pointed to the bright red scar in the center of his chest.

She put her hand atop his heart, once again feeling the steady, constant beating of life inside of him. Her fingers lingered over a most extraordinary mark and she bent down and placed a gentle kiss on it before continuing to lay her kisses over the many pink and purple lines that scattered his chest. The last kiss she placed was on a scar just above his right hip bone, caused him to audibly gasp aloud. She could feel his heart beat faster as she delicately traced the outline of his hip with the very tip of her longest finger. She looked up at him and smiled.

“ _Glorious_.” She cooed in her native language.

She stood facing him, and allowed her gown to slip slowly from her body; revealing her breasts, then her stomach and finally her entirety before him. She watched his eyes follow the dress until it lay draped upon the floor. His breathing was louder than before and she could see that he was struggling to maintain his composure.

“You are so beautiful.” His lip quivered as he spoke. “I’m afraid to touch you. I’m afraid of hurting you.” His eyes, a mix of fear, vulnerability and desire, met hers once more with a pleading look.

“You will not hurt me. Here” She said as she took his hand and placed it upon her stomach. His large fingers lingered on the soft curve of her belly before sliding his thumb along the bottom of her breast. He whispered words she did not understand before edging his fingers up until her nipple rested between them. He rubbed his thumb over her pink skin until it raised pointed and firm under his caress.

“I do not know how to touch you.” His voice was low and trembling. “Will you show me?”

She nodded. She lifted her hand and, beginning at the bottom of her neck, dragged it along the space between her breasts, slowly fondling each of her nipples before running her fingers along her hip; carefully and lightly touching her thigh before brushing against the red curls between her legs. “Do you want to watch me?” She asked quietly, betraying her own vulnerability before him.

“Yes.” He swallowed hard, keeping his eyes steady on where her fingers lie.

Her fingers parted the swollen lips and danced teasingly over the hard, small mound which brought her so much pleasure. She swirled her finger lightly; tracing circles so delicately over her sensitive flesh until the sensation caused her to moan. Her eyes fluttered as she continued to touch herself, the blissful delight sending her gasping for breath. She opened her eyes and released a sigh of joy as she beheld Kili as he intently stared at her.

She moved onto the bed and tentatively spread her legs apart before him and giggled nervously. She slipped her long finger into her mouth, sliding it along her tongue until it was slick before returning it to treasure between her thighs. She pressed it against her opening, sliding her finger inside before pulling it out then repeating the action as her hips rocked against the quickening of her hand. She watched him as he watched her; his lust driving her nearly to the point of ecstasy before she forced herself to stop, pulling her hand away and extending it towards him.

“Come here, my love.” Her own voice raspy and breathless as she took his hand and placed it upon her sex, taking a deep breath as his fingers grazed over her folds until they settled upon her mound, hard and wet from her arousal. He mimicked the motion he watched her perform and legs parted further at his touch.

“Softer, my darling,” she urged. “Like this.” She placed her hand on top of his; guiding his fingers in the fashion she enjoyed. She released an approving sigh while her toes curled. She felt dizzy, as if she were trying to breathe under water, and the sensation left her head spinning.

He rose to kiss her mouth; placing innocent kisses one after the other before pressing his forehead against hers. “Is this alright? Would you like to stop?” He asked so lovingly, she felt her heart soar.

She shook her head, “No Kili, I do not want to stop. I am a mortal woman now, and I understand that I will never have enough time with you. I do not want to waste a moment.”

“I love you.” He murmured in her ear. “I love you.”

He continued his kissed down the nape of her neck, pulling at her skin leaving ever so slight red marks as he moved lower. He allowed his tongue to glide over her nipple before taking it into his mouth, sucking until she could no longer stand it. He licked her stomach, nipping tenderly at the crevice between her hip. He caressed her inner thigh with his hand before planting soft kisses along the milky flesh leading to her glistening cleft. His mouth lapped hungrily over the velvety warmth of her opening, causing her body to shudder uncontrollably. His tongue swirled and slipped over her slick flesh, causing moans of passion to escape from her lips. When she felt that she could take no more, he gripped her hips, lifting her into the air as he clutched her supple behind with his thick fingers. Despite her squirming, he held her tightly against his face, devouring her juices as they poured from her. Her body writhed with the most exquisite tension before her mounting climax broke over her, sending her limbs trembling and her blurring her vision. She called his name as the wave of pleasure coursed through her, leaving her mouth dry and her heart thundering.

“I want you.” She begged as she locked his gaze once more, licking her lips.

He removed his pants, fumbling slightly with the tie before pulling himself free and throwing them to the ground. The movement caused his hardness to bounce lightly off his stomach as he crawled on the edge of the bed. He looked shyly up at her, and for her part, she was both enthralled and terrified. She had never seen a man in his entirety before, and seeing what lay hidden beneath his clothing pleased her greatly.

“So that’s what you have in your trousers.” She said with sincerity and they burst out laughing. He curled next to her on the bed, pulling her close as they continued to giggle. Before long, they were kissing once more and she motioned for him to move on top of her.

“Please,” his voice trembling while he cupped her face. “Please may I lie with you.”

She nodded. He pressed the head of his length against her eager opening, still wet from his tongue, and pushed into her. He held himself still before pushing his length in deeper and deeper until he had filled her completely. There was a fair amount of pain as her body stretched to envelop him, a tear slipped from her eye as her fingers clenched tightly into the blanket; the feeling was both blissful and agonizing as she struggled to keep from crying out. His swollen shaft fit tightly in her, he pushed in deeper still until he could go no further. The dull throbbing of his hardness and his soft whimper of ecstasy elicited her body to drench him in a warm wetness; rapidly replacing the ache with unending pleasure.

“Am I hurting you?” He asked as he brushed his fingers against her cheek.

“No, don’t stop.” She whispered as she relaxed her hips, pressing them into his.

He slid out and pushed gently into her once more; his eyes closed as he focused on creating a rhythm between them, one she matched as she lifted her hips against the rise and fall of his body. Each thrust, harder and faster than the one before, left her panting and dizzy. Stars danced before her eyes as she kissed him, the taste to her sex lingered on his tongue as it flicked into her mouth. He met her gaze as they rocked together, his back arched as his thrusting became more frenzied.

His jaw clenched and he whimpered as his seed spilled into her; his body quivered as his hot fluid filled her deepest recesses. He collapsed on the bed beside her, nuzzling his head against her neck as he tried to catch his breath. She reached for his hand and entwined her fingers between his.

“Are you alright, amralime?” His eyes filled with love as he looked up at her.

“Yes Kili, I am more than alright.” She smiled and ran her free hand through his hair, rumpling it slightly.

“We should not have done that.” He frowned. “I should have stopped myself.”

“I would not let you stop, we have not done anything wrong, my love.” She teased as she ran her fingers over his back.

“We are not yet married. What if I have given you a child? I did not mean to shame you.” Fear washed over his face as he spoke.

“You dwarves have strange customs for everything. Elves are not nearly so ridiculous. In elf culture, we are not married until we have lain together. There is nothing shameful about our love, and if you have given me a child, then that is cause for celebration, not concern.” Her fingers continued to dance along his back while she spoke.

“You are wonderful and I do not deserve you. How did this ugly dwarf manage to win your love?” He closed his eyes while she scratched the back of his head with her long nails.

“I will not hear such words about my husband! The only thing I want to hear is that you are ready to lie with me again. For I have not yet had my fill of you tonight.” She bit her lower lip in attempt to stifle another giggle.

“My darling wife, you are a greedy woman indeed. Keep speaking like that and it will not be much longer you will have to wait.” There it was again; the cheeky grin she adored so much upon his face once more. _I could do this forever._ She thought to herself as she straddled her legs across his, resting her hips against his and as she prepared to take him into her once more.

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Thorin**

From his position at the center table, he watched as the dwarves enjoyed the spoils of Erebor. The whispers, that did not reach his ears, blanketed the room with a thick tension that filled him with a growing rage.  For nearly two years, he and The Company fought and bled for this moment, yet seeing their disapproving eyes and false smiles made him realize that none of them truly appreciated the terrible perils conquered by so few. His eyes met Dwalin’s and he recognized the same internal bitterness that plagued him lurking within his oldest friend.

“You know they are unhappy with your decision to allow Tauriel stay.” His sister, Dis, who returned to her seat at the table, said with resentment.

“Are you unhappy with my decision?” He asked despite already knowing her answer.

“No. You are my brother and my King and I trust you more than anyone. Kili has found a woman worthy of him; Tauriel is a fierce warrior, she has a loyal heart and most importantly, she loves my son. Besides, I do not believe that after what you have been through, that anyone has the right to voice a complaint.” Dis replied solemnly.

“And yet, they complain. Silently judging me and filling the air with their open disgust.” He spit in anger. His eyes grazed over the assembly; identifying those who would be quick to betray him.

“They will accuse you of allowing your love for Kili to cloud your judgment. Not that I blame you, I know why you favor him so much.” His sister said with a weak smile.

“Perhaps I am too soft with the lad, but has he not suffered through enough? Should I ask him to sacrifice his own happiness to appease those whose opinions matter not to me? How can I ask that of him? _The treacherous be damned._ ” He growled.

“You cannot and you will not.” Dis said coolly. “But you cannot allow them to continue this way.” She gestured to the couple dancing. “You must make their union official and you must do it soon. She has Kili’s protection, but she needs the Durin name in order to remain safe. You must not put this off, Thorin. We need to stand together on this decision, show that we are united in this.”

He considered her words carefully for a moment; she was correct that a marriage, a public affair, needed to occur in order to legitimize their relationship in the eyes of the dwarves. “I agree.” He conceded with a sigh.

“I am glad we are in agreement over this issue.” She licked her lips then continued. “You know that despite all you have done for them, there are some who would rise against you. Clearly, you see the unrest brewing and it is not just about allowing Tauriel to remain. There are…rumors.” Dis was clearly unsure how to proceed.

“Go on and say what you need to say.” He grit his teeth in anticipation.

“The hobbit.” She sighed. “Frankly, I care not how you live your life, but you know his presence has drawn some unpleasant questions and vicious rumors.”

He drew his in his breath; torn between denial and confession, yet all he could manage was to roll his eyes and clench his jaw.

She was calculated and precise with him, and for the first time, hesitant to speak. “I see the light in you when he is near. Thorin, you can lie to others, you can lie to yourself, but you cannot lie to me. I know your heart, my brother.”

“And I am certain you are about to lecture me about my decisions.” He grumbled, running his hand through his increasingly silver hair.

Dis paused for a moment. “We are in a precarious situation at best. If you refuse to marry, the dwarf lords will take it as an insult against their daughters. If you live openly with the halfling, you face further alienation or worse. Perhaps the best and safest course of action would be for him to return to The Shire, at least until things here have become less hostile.”

He knew her next words before they left her lips. “You must at least consider a marriage. You are the King, and you are expected to produce heirs of your own.” The very idea felt like a blade cleaving him inside.

“I took an oath, sister, or have you forgotten?” He hissed at her as he slammed his fist down upon the table.

“I have not forgotten! You’re not the only one who misses Frerin.” Her face contorted as she said the name of their long deceased brother.

_Frerin._ The name echoed through him; drowning out all other sounds and forcing the air from his lungs.

“I lost my brother, my husband and I nearly lost my youngest son. I know what it means to mourn, to grieve; but we cannot allow the ghosts of the past to haunt our future. Our homeland was hard-won and if we want to keep peace and preserve the Line of Durin, we need to make some difficult choices.” Dis said sadly, knowing the gravity of her words.

“What would you have me do?” He shook his head.

“I am not so presumptuous that I would tell you what to do, but I advise that you should marry a dwarf woman with the lineage of Moria. By doing so, you can potentially unite the scattered dwarves of Moria and the dwarves of Erebor and rally them to you. None would dare move against you.” She said pleadingly.

“For one who does not presume to tell me what to do, you have many notions of what I should be doing.” He grumbled.

“Thorin, I am not the villain. I am trying to keep you protected against those who would seek to depose you; those who would claim you are not the rightful ruler.” Her eyes flashed with anger.

“Why would there be any doubt? Am I not the King?” His voice thundered through the hall, despite the noise.

“You are, my brother. However, you must regain The Arkenstone. If you would but consider forming a truce with Thranduil…” She urged.

“I will not! I would rather die than give that vile creature the gems he covets.” He scoffed thinking about his time in The Woodland Realm and the offer Thranduil gave him.

“The Arkenstone is considered the divine right to rule over Durin’s folk. You think all in these halls are our friends? We could very well be usurped if you choose to do nothing.” She snarled. “You do not want to give Thranduil his damn necklace? Fine. Have Fili do it then. But you need the King’s Jewel in your possession and you need it now.”

“The Arkenstone nearly destroyed me once. Perhaps it is best that it remains in The Woodland Realm. You do not know its effect upon me. You did not see me at my worst, sister. I did terrible things.” His voice wavered as he spoke; in his mind flashed images of him atop the rampart threatening Bilbo.

“You are not the same as you were before. You have changed Thorin. There is tenderness within you, a quiet calm among the raging storm. Perhaps it has something to do with the halfling.” Dis raised her eyebrow as she glanced over to where Bilbo sat with Tauriel. “I have come to care for him as well. I fear for him though; I fear our enemies might use him in order to hurt you. I do not want to see him come to harm, and I know you do not either. That is why I think you should send him home.” Her words were pained.

“I will not send Bilbo away, nor will I break the vow I made upon our brother’s tomb. I will not marry.” He pushed away the plate in front of him. He felt angry that his sister would make such a suggestion and angry with himself for understanding her reasoning. How could he allow himself to contemplate both allowing Bilbo to stay and sending him back to The Shire?

“Ay cousins! Are we not supposed to be joyous? Why the grim faces?” Dain Ironfoot, his voice filled with drink and cheer, asked as he collapsed into the seat beside Dis.

“Dis is suggesting that I get married.” He growled lowly.

“Ugh, now I understand the gloomy disposition.” Dain’s brow furrowed. He knowingly took a generous swig from his ale mug.

“Durins folk need heirs and allies. We can delay no longer.” Dis said sternly.

“Well, with my wife refusing to leave the Iron Hills, I do not see how I can be much use to the cause.” Dain smiled as he wiped the drink from his coarse beard.

“Ionè has been summoned and I doubt she will refuse.” Dis remarked plainly.

“I did not send for her!” Dain’s voice filled with panic, his eyes wild with fear.

“I know you did not. I did. I have sent for her and several other women from high station families under the pretense that they shall be my handmaidens. It is an honor none will refuse, and I can assemble the best prospects for marriage under the mountain.” Dis remarked as she flicked away a crumb of bread off the table. “Fili and Nain will have their choice of wives. For you Thorin, I have summoned Bona, Bofur and Bombur’s sister. You should at least consider a formal courtship with her.”

“You’re assuming that one of those poor dwarf women will actually consent to marry Nain. That lad has been sour since the moment of his birth.” Dain scowled. “Despite my efforts, he remains as foul and unappealing as always. I cannot believe such a loathsome creature came from my beloved sister, rest her soul. I do not want the realm of the Iron Hills to fall under his rule. ”

“You know the solution then?” Dis smiled with a gleam in her eye. “Have children of your own.”

Dain continued to frown. “I do not think Ionè will be so agreeable to that idea.”

“The idea of what? Holding a newborn son in her arms?” She scoffed.

“More like the idea of me and her...together. She does not enjoy that particular aspect of being married.” Dain half-heartedly laughed while taking another long drink from his mug.

“Perhaps you should ask my nephew for some advice. He and Tauriel have disappeared and I can only imagine where they are headed.” He said slyly as Dis whipped her head around, searching for her youngest son.

“Mahal that boy is too impatient.” She sulked. “Just like his father.”

_At least someone is enjoying this night._ He thought to himself. _If anyone is to be happy in this world, I am glad that it is Kili._

 

**The Uprising**

“If Thror were here, he would kill those outsiders without a second thought and banish anyone who would ally themselves with Thranduil’s kind.” The dwarf known as Bildr scoffed as he watched the unlikely pair dancing together.

“And Thorin permits an elf to stand beside him. _Disgusting._ ” Hannir spat upon the ground. “The Line of Durin mingling with the blood of elves! Such an insult.”

“It’s no surprise that nephew of his lays with elves.   He is not of dwarf blood- much less Durin blood. Vili was a fool to believe he could have fathered such a creature.” Nyr continued to express his disgust.

“If my wife bore me such a child, I would have smothered him at birth and I would have her drawn for adultery. No respectable dwarf would have allowed the child to live.” Hannir said as he swallowed the remaining ale from his mug.

“Remember how Vili died shortly after the birth? I would not be surprised to learn that Thorin killed him to keep the scandal of _Elf Prince’s_ parentage quiet.” Bildr snarled.

“Nor I. See how he parades that halfling around, forcing us to acknowledge his filthy perversions. It is a disgrace, that’s what it is.” Nyr bitterly shook his head.

“You know that it is treason to speak against your King and his kin.” A voice chastised from the shadows. “I would hate to see you and you families in chains.” Nain said as he emerged from his vantage point.

“Nain! Perhaps we’ve had a bit too much drink. Nothing was meant by our words.” Nyr, caught off guard, nearly spilled the contents of his mug all over himself.

“There’s no need for concern, I will not say a word.” Nain’s face contorted into a semblance of a smile. “But treasonous remarks should be uttered away from where there are ears loyal to the King. If you want to speak privately, follow me.” Nain quietly led the gathering of dwarves into his private chambers, where several more dwarves were already seated at a table.

“I believe we are all in agreement about the state of Erebor. It is true that Thorin led the charge to reclaim the mountain, but his decisions have proved that he is an incompetent ruler. It is clear from his allowing of outsiders to infiltrate these walls that his loyalty does not lie with his own kind. If we allow this madness to continue, we might as well resolve ourselves to the dissolution of our race.” Nain spoke with authority from his seat at the head of the table.

“What are you suggesting lad?” Hannir asked while he stroked his beard.

“If we raise enough respectable dwarven families together, we could take the mountain and regain our honor. Leave the fornicators and elf-lovers to rot.” Nain said smugly.

“What you are suggesting is in direct conflict with our very nature. We follow the rightful king.” Bildr, clearly conflicted, shook his head.

“Would the rightful king give his blessing to a marriage between a dwarf prince and an elf? Would the rightful king allow his bloodline to end simply because he prefers the company of an outsider to a proper dwarf wife? Would the rightful king lower himself before that common fisherman that Dale calls king?” Nain scoffed.

“You make some valid points, but suppose we manage to dethrone Thorin and his sister’s son, who do you envision assuming the throne? And if we manage to unseat his nephews, do you really believe that your Uncle Dain will turn against Thorin? I can tell you that he will not.” Nyr said as he took as swig from his mug.

“I know he won’t turn against Thorin. He has become a puppet. We need someone of the bloodline, someone with the right to rule; someone who is truly invested in restoring our race to their rightful place above all other creatures.” Nain smirked to his fellow dwarves from the Iron Hills.

“So you then.” Bildr grumbled.

Nain paused as he stood up. “I have the blood, I have the right and I want nothing more than the glory of dwarves. I would ask all of you to be my private council; to help me rule in the manner we see fit.” A sinister smile spread across his face, and for the first time, the elder dwarves understood that he was completely serious about his plot.

“There are those who will oppose you. How are you to overcome them?” Hannir asked.

“I have a plan. All I need is your support. What say you? Will you fight for the advancement of our race, or allow it to fall into shambles?” Nain raised his glass in the air. “Side with me, and once again we will bring honor back to Erebor.” Slowly, the small gathering all raised their glasses alongside Nain’s, solidifying their treasonous plan together.

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Sigrid**

The morning of her long anticipated trip to Erebor had arrived, her first as the official emissary for her father. She could hardly contain her excitement as she slipped into the bath. The water, though hardly warm, felt luxurious against her skin. As she scrubbed, she considered the proposal she was offering to Thorin: a combined hunting party for the mutual benefit of the two cities. How could he refuse such a reasonable request? _I wonder if I will see Fili on this trip._ Her heart leapt as she thought about the handsome dwarf; the image of him sitting in her kitchen in the early light of the morning flashed into her mind. She bit her lip in an effort to quiet her racing heart. _You’re being a silly child, fawning over him like this._

Putting on her dress, she frowned as she discovered a small tear along the side of the bodice. _The supply wagon arrived with fine cloth the other day, and perhaps I should consider having a new dress made._ She hummed an old song her mother used to sing as she sat and mended; she had forgotten many of the words, but the melody would remain with her forever _. “My love, I saw was standing there, with the sea still in his hair. Tho’ he may sail to lands far and away, within my heart he’ll always stay.”_ She sang until the dress was repaired. She swept her curls back off her neck with a silk ribbon and took a deep breath in and out. _I am ready._

“My lady, we are here on your father’s orders to escort you safely to the Mountain.” An older man she recognized from Laketown said as he approached her with her horse. The other man, possibly the older one’s son, tried his best to appear formidable.

“Very well then. Are you ready to depart? I would prefer to arrive in the mid-morning and we must be off soon.” She said with authority.

As she rode towards the Mountain, she felt a shiver of hope run down her spine as she anticipated seeing Fili again; it had been many long months since she last saw him and the absence only increased her growing feelings. _He is a prince and surely he is betrothed already. I am a Princess of Dale and he is a Prince of Erebor, and we are expected to marry our own kind._

Her mind raced as they rode towards the looming mountain, tears streamed down her cheeks from the wind whipping at her face. _Put aside your feelings. Nothing can come from them._ She tried desperately to convince herself that what she felt for Fili was a fleeting heart’s desire and nothing more.

 

**Kili**

The gentle swaying of the chimes alerted him that morning had broken. In the gentle dim of the still lit candles, he marveled at the unimaginably beautiful creature lying naked beside him in his bed. Her flame hair cascaded around her slender frame, blanketing her in glorious fashion. She was still asleep; no doubt exhausted from their love making the night before, and he was reluctant to wake her. He turned to face her, silently admiring the slope of her back as it crested into the arched roundness of her supple behind. He could not help but pull the blanket down to steal a peek.

“Have you not had your fill from last night?” She asked as a smile spread across her face, her eyes still closed.

“My love, I could never have enough of you. Forgive me for staring, I cannot help myself. I’ve seen many lovely sights, but I’ve never seen anything as wondrous as your ass.” He laughed.

She opened one eye and shook her head, “You are so charming, my darling.”

“What can I say? You are truly a gift to my sore eyes. I still cannot believe that you are real.” He said as traced his finger along the curve of her shoulder.

“Do not speak to me of being sore!” She giggled as she rolled over on her back, stretching her long limbs and releasing a yawn. “How do you think I feel this morning? You and your insatiable appetite.” She winked at him.

“Did I hurt you? You did not seem to mind too much last night, although you did voice your complaints rather loudly.” He laughed as he stroked his thick fingers against her cheek.

“I will be fine.” She sighed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Ask me anything.” He murmured as he pulled her closer to him; resting her head upon his chest.

“Tell me more about your ways and customs in regards to love.” She ran her fingers over his chest, tickling the bare skin.

“Very well. I told you last night that the marriage custom is for the husband to follow the wife into the marital bedchamber. A husband may never presume that he is welcome to enjoy her comforts, he must always have her permission.” His fingers caressed along her back as he spoke.

“Is that why you asked me so many times last night?” She teased.

“Of course. I would never assume that it is acceptable for me to lay with you without asking. Dwarf women are something of a rarity, the men outnumber them significantly, and they are considered a kingdom’s greatest treasure. The husband understands that having a wife is a privilege and an honor; as most dwarf men do not marry.” He explained.

“Is that why I have yet to see another dwarf woman besides you mother?” She asked wide eyed.

“Ay. A husband and wife are loyal to each other; they take no other besides their partner unless one of them dies. It is a vow we dwarves take very seriously. Dwarf men will go out of their way to show their love and devotion, we are quite a tender and romantic people.” He brushed her hair back behind her ear.

“I would never have guessed that!” She said as she lifted her head from his chest.

“It’s true.” He said as he furrowed his eyebrows. “When we marry, our wedding will be a huge celebration attended by the entire kingdom.”

“I do not think such a lavish affair is appropriate Kili. You saw how the dwarves reacted to my presence last night.” She said as she nestled her head back into the crook of his shoulder.

“Tauriel, I learned a long time ago to stop caring about what the others thought of me. Nothing I could do would ever sway their opinions of me, nor would I want to spend my life trying to please them. I love you, and I want to proclaim our love in front of everyone.” He said adamantly.

“If you insist my darling.” She continued to run her fingers along his chest. “Kili, what about the dwarves who never marry? Are they destined to live their lives alone?” He noted the sadness in her voice.

“Not at all. Dwarf men can choose to marry or live openly with other dwarf men. Honestly, that is a more common occurrence simply due to the amount of men. What about elves? Tell me more about your ways.” He said as he held her tightly.

“Elves are not so different from dwarves in their courtship. Marriage between us is not usually marked by ceremony or celebration though. You may not notice it, but elves carry themselves differently after they have lay with another. We do not exchange gifts, or have formal engagements either. When two elves decide that they want to marry, it is a private decision. There are exceptions for elf royalty or important figures, but that is unusual.” She sat up in bed while she talked. “All love is sacred to my kind as well. We remain loyal and faithful to our partners for life.”

“I do not deserve your love, but I ask once more may I please have you?” He whispered while he nuzzled against her stomach, pressing her lips against the soft folds of her skin.

“Again my love?” She giggled as he slipped his hand between her thighs.

“Again and again and again until the day we die.” He said breathlessly as he slid inside of her body.

 

**Fili**

_Where is he? He should know that the emissary from Dale will be arriving shortly, and Thorin expects him to be in attendance._ He grumbled to himself as he marched down the hallway towards his brother’s door. _He’d better have a good excuse for being late._ He pushed open the door in frustration and began his tirade.

“You picked one hell of a morning to be late! Did you forget that we have official business today, or are you just too… oh shit!” He gasped as it suddenly registered exactly what was making his brother late.

“Fili! You don’t know how to knock?” Kili shouted as he jumped off the bed and reached for his trousers.

He quickly turned to leave the room, instead he walked face first into the wall. “Mahal Kili! What are you doing?” He cursed as he rubbed his forehead.

“Ay brother, you know full well what we were doing before you so rudely interrupted.” Kili laughed heartily, always knowing how to diffuse an uncomfortable situation.

“Good morning Fili.” Tauriel, her face as scarlet as her hair, said clearly mortified.

“It looks like a good morning for someone.” He rolled his eyes.   “Put some damn clothes on and get to the meeting! The emissary from Dale is arriving today, and Thorin expects us to greet him.” He turned his back as he waited for the pair to dress.

“Ah Fee, you can handle Dale’s requests on your own. You’re going to be king one day after all.” Kili teased as he jumped back onto the bed, folding his arms behind his head.

“So you’re not coming?” He sighed in annoyance.

“Nope. I think I’m going to spend the day in bed. I’m not feeling very well and I really could use the rest.” Kili, cheeky as ever, grinned.

“You are so reckless.” He shook his head before shutting the door behind him. _Lucky little shit._ He thought as he stormed down the hall towards the rampart overlook.

He stood above the city, impatiently awaiting the arrival of the emissary and his entourage. He was certain the day would be filled with lengthy negations and boring conversation. He was meant for fighting and thwarting danger, not dealing with self-important, long winded men.

Cresting over the hill, he watched the small party as they rode swiftly on horseback over the road; three riders approached unceremoniously. The figure in the center caused his heart to jump into his throat; could it really be her?

Against his better judgment, he ran down the steps and tore through the hall to reach the front gate; his heart beating madly in his chest as he attempted to quiet his excitement. She appeared atop Bard’s steed, her eyes bright and her cheeks red from the wind. Her curls bounced along with the steps of her horse. Months had passed since he last looked upon her, but his heart had not forgotten her.

She dismounted from her horse and was instantly flanked by her two guards. She brushed the road from her dress and smoothed her hair back nervously. She looked up and their eyes met. He wanted to run to her, to hold her in his arms and tell her how much he missed her, but he knew it would be unwise. He tried desperately to quiet his body as she approached; she was radiant as ever, if not more so than last they met.

“Prince Fili.” She said formally as she curtsied before him.

“Princess Sigrid.” He said back to her, bowing lowly. “How good it is to see you again! What brings you to Erebor?”

“My Lady represents her father, our Lord and future King.” One of the men standing beside her quipped.

“It is alright gentlemen.” She motioned to her guards. “Da appointed me to be his emissary.” She smiled sweetly.

“This is a most welcome surprise. Please, come inside and see the splendor that is Erebor.” He returned her smile.

“My Lady, perhaps it would be best if you conducted you business out in the open.” The other of her guard said cautiously.

“Nonsense! Fili is a dear friend, and no harm shall come to me in his presence.” She said sharply. “You are free to do whatever you will, I can handle myself.” The two men looked at each other unsure of how to proceed, before walking back to their horses and busying themselves with adjusting the bridles and saddles.

“Ignore them,” she giggled. “Father made me bring them because he thinks the road unsafe for unaccompanied ladies.”

“I promise you are most safe here. Come; let me show you my home.” He said as he offered his arm to her. While she was taller than him, the difference between them was not so great that it would cause her to bend down to walk beside him.

He led her through the gates and into the massive hall where enormous statues of former kings stood against the walls carved from the earth. Dazzling gem stone chandeliers hung from the ceiling, alight with the glow of hundreds of candles that sent brilliant displays of color shining through the cavernous room.

Her eyes grew wide at the sights, and her hand gripped his arm. “I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in all my life.” She said as she stood in awe.

“Nor have I.” His words quiet as he watched her as she marveled over the sights.

“This way Princess.” He said slyly.

“Fili, I am not a real princess yet. Besides, you do not have to be formal with me. Did you not tell me the same thing back in Laketown?” She teased.

“I might have said something along those lines.” He grinned up at her.

“This place is amazing, Fili. It’s nothing like I imagined.” She whispered as they walked past several dwarves at work.

“What did you picture? A gloomy dungeon; dark and full of trolls?” He snickered.

“I did not imagine the city to be this bright or colorful. The lights are stunning, truly magnificent to behold.” She praised warmly.

“We dwarves are full of surprises. Now, what did you want to discuss on behalf of Dale?” He said formally as they turned into a room filled with empty seats.

“Very well.” She sat down and began her proposal. “Winter shall be upon us soon enough and I am afraid our stores will be stretched thin. Would you consider, for the mutual benefit of both our kingdoms, a hunting party? The citizens of Dale are accustomed to fishing, and while most are skilled at hunting, these woods are unfamiliar to us, and we could use some experienced members to join our hunting parties.” Sigrid explained.

“How would the spoils be shared?” He asked, interested to hear her ideas.

“Naturally an equal split would be difficult, but I think that dividing the carcass into sections would be the most fair. The rights to the pelts would alternate between Dale and Erebor, depending upon need.” She said as she pushed a strand of hair back from her face.

He mused for a moment before giving his answer. “The meat will be difficult to share, but if you think that we could manage to come to an understanding, then we dwarves agree to your proposal.”

“I did not expect this to be quite so easy.” She sighed.

“How could I refuse such a reasonable proposition?” he said. “A large hunting party is within our mutual benefit. Erebor will expect a trade in fish for our efforts to train your men.”

“Of course and we accept your request.” Sigrid laughed.

“Now, was there any other business you wanted to discuss?” He lifted his eyebrow as he spoke.

“Not today.” She conceded.

“Well then, allow me to treat you to everything Erebor has to offer. You must be hungry.” He eagerly took her arm and led her through the underground city.

Throughout their meal, they continued to chat about the construction of Dale and restoration of Erebor, the new responsibilities of ruling and their shared concerns about the upcoming winter. She had such a way about her that made him forget himself; she was easy to talk to and not at all insincere or pretentious.  

“Sigrid! This is a most welcome visit. How good it is to see you.” Tauriel exclaimed as she walked towards her.

“Lady Tauriel, how relieved I am to see you. How are you feeling?” Sigrid asked eagerly.

“I am well dear girl, thank you for asking.” Tauriel smiled.

“I thought I heard your voice! Welcome to Erebor.” Kili called with his arms outstretched in grand fashion.

“How happy you both look! Tauriel, you are positively glowing; Erebor agrees with you then?” Sigrid exclaimed. He could not help but snort at her proclamation; as he knew the reason why the pair appeared so radiant.

“We are heading to the fighting pit for some much needed practice. I am afraid I have been out of commission for quite some time and I refuse to allow myself to become soft.” Tauriel said with determination.

“Agreed. Besides, I need to show my darling love how to fight like a dwarf if she is to live here.” Kili nodded.

“Be well my brother, and try not to embarrass yourself too much.” He laughed as he bid them farewell.

“Fighting pits?” Sigrid asked nervously.

“It is our training ground. We spend considerable time practicing our fighting skills because you never know when you will need to be ready for combat.” He explained.

“I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like a pit made for fighting before.” She giggled while she picked at a loose thread on her dress.

“Would you like to watch?” He suggested with a shrug.

“I would.” She nodded and together they made their way into an enormous room, filled with various weapons and targets; in its center, a large area filled with dirt where a large assembly of dwarves had already gathered to watch the elf and the Dwarf Prince spar.

“Would you like me to go slow with you, my love? It has been a while since you’ve fought last.” Tauriel goaded while circling Kili; her practice stick held at her side.

“Amusing my darling. You’re saying you want to take things slow? That would be a first.” Kili retorted playfully.

The duo exchanged hit after hit as the throngs of dwarves cheered; Kili and Tauriel were well matched, while he suspected his brother was holding back in order to avoid hurting the elf.

“Now brother, I did not expect you to be so dainty. You truly do fight like an elf.” He yelled.

“That was not a nice thing to say.” Sigrid said as she poked him in the arm.

“I know, but after the incident he put me through this morning, he deserves to be teased.” He snickered.

“What was that brother? You want to fight like old times then? Come down here and say those words to my face.” Kili called back as he tossed his training stick to the ground in favor of a sword.

“You’re going to fight him?” Sigrid asked nervously.

“Absolutely. It has been a while since we faced off in the pits, and last time we did, I gave him a scar to remind him that I am considerably stronger and a better fighter than him.” He chuckled aloud as he pulled off his heavy tunic and handed it to Sigrid.

The dwarves gathered in greater numbers around the pit, eager to watch the two princes battle against each other. Sigrid ran to greet Tauriel and the ladies stood together to watch.

“They are using real swords?” Sigrid gasped.

“Yes and I imagine this will be quite the fight.” Tauriel explained with a gleam in her eye.

“Are you certain you are up for this, Kee?” He said as he removed two swords from the weapon holder.

“Ay brother. I am always at the ready.” Kili said as he twirled his sword in his hand.

“You asked for it.” He grumbled.

Kili swung at him first and he countered by ducking out of the way, then thrusting one of his swords forward, barely missing his brother. _He is so fast._ He thought to himself as Kili nicked him in the upper arm, drawing blood.

“Mahal Kili! That hurt!” He yelled.

“I have to make it look good, your favorite citizen of Dale is watching.” Kili said as he motioned towards where Sigrid was standing.

He resisted the urge to look, instead rolling his eyes once more as he raised his sword.

“You’re too slow, Fee.” Kili goated. “Do not worry Sigrid, I won’t hurt him too much.”

“It is not him I’m worried about Kili!” Sigrid shouted back and the assembly of dwarves roared with laughter.

“Oh, I can still best you!” Kili shouted as he dropped his sword and ran straight at his brother, catching him off guard and dropping him to the ground with a loud thud. The pair scrapped for several minutes, rolling in the dirt and throwing punches.

“That’s enough!” A voice thundered from outside his view.

“Mother! We were just playing.” Kili said softly.

“We meant nothing by it.” He added picking up his swords from the dirt.

“If you two are finished showing off, there are others who could actually use the sparring practice.” Dis shouted.

“Yes mum.” The both replied in a sullen manner.

“Mother, I want you to meet the emissary from The City of Dale, Princess Sigrid, Daughter of Bard. She is here on official business.” Fili stumbled over his words as he introduced Sigrid to his mother. “Sigrid, this is my mother, Lady Dis, Daughter of Thrain.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Sigrid curtsied respectfully.

“And you, dear girl. I trust my son has been showing you all Erebor has to offer. We need to keep a strong alliance between our kingdoms.” Dis said stoically.

“Indeed. We value our relationship with Erebor.” Sigrid smiled.

“Come Sigrid,” he said. “I have one more thing I wish to show you.” He nodded to his mother as the pair turned and left the fighting pits.

He guided her through the vast caverns and winding staircases until they stood upon the rampart overlooking the City of Dale.

“I could not allow you to leave without seeing the spectacular view of your kingdom from my perspective.” He said as he watched her face light up.

“I did not realize that Dale was so impressive. Thank you for bringing me up here.” She reached out and touched his arm. “Fili! You’re bleeding!” She gasped.

“This? Do not worry, I’ve had worse. It is just a scratch.” He shrugged.

“You need to clean this properly. Let me have a look please.” She pawed carefully at the cut on his arm. She tore a piece from the hem of her dress and wrapped the makeshift bandage around the wound. “That should stop the bleeding.” Her eyes continued to stare into his.

“Thank you.” He said as he touched his arm. He leaned against the rampart’s edge; feeling to coolness of the stone sent a shiver through him. Sigrid stood beside him, keeping her eyes fixed upon Dale.

“Fili, can I ask you about what happened upon Ravenhill?” Sigrid asked cautiously.

“I do not even know how to tell you about what happened. My brother died and I just let it happen. I wanted to die, Sigrid. I wanted to drive a knife through my own heart because how could I go on without him? What was left for me?” His eyes continued to stare as he spoke.

“You have to know that it was not your fault, what happened to Kili was not your doing.” She reached over and touched his hand. He was struck by how soft and gentle her fingers felt atop his own; how the warmth of her touch filled him with a sudden peace.

“I killed Bolg. I killed him with your knife. But his death did not bring me any satisfaction.” He tightened his fingers around hers. “Then Kili came back to me. It was as if I willed him to breathe once more. I do not care if no one else believes me, but I know what I saw and it was nothing less than a miracle.”

“I believe you. No matter what you tell me, I would believe you completely.” Her thumb stroked alongside his hand. “I was afraid for you,” she began. “I was afraid that I would never see you again.” Her eyes filled with fear.

“You were afraid for me?” He said quietly.

“Of course I was.” Her voice was just above a whisper. “I was afraid you would leave me alone in this world.”

“I will not leave you. Not unless you ask me to.” His heart beat wildly in his chest; his voice wavered as he spoke. He gave her hand a squeeze and was reluctant to release her fingers.  “Thank you for listening. You’re the only one I have spoken to about what happened that day.” He closed his eyes, feeling unburdened.

“You can always tell me anything Fili.” She continued to hold fast to his hand. “Look there. Do you see that small alcove atop that tower? I like to go there by myself at night to think. I light a torch and enjoy the evening as it spills upon the mountain. It’s beautiful you know, the mountain, as the sun goes down and the moon light fills the sky.”

They stood, hand in hand, and together they watched the vibrant colors of the evening wash over the horizon; the dazzling display of pink and orange as the day turned late.

“I suppose I should be getting back home.” She said quietly.

“You should go before nightfall.” Still holding her hand in his, he gave her fingers one final squeeze before releasing them.

“Thank you for a wonderful visit, and for agreeing to my proposal.” Sigrid said as her eyes dropped towards the ground. She leaned over and kissed him softly upon the cheek; her lips pressed delicately against his skin, leaving her touch to linger upon him. His heart fluttered and he struggled to keep his composure.

“Be safe.” He stuttered.

He walked with her out to the gates, not yet ready to part from her.

“Goodbye Prince Fili.” She gave him one final courtesy.

“Farewell Princess Sigrid.” He bowed cordially as he watched her mount her horse and ride away towards Dale.

Later in the evening, when darkness blanketed the sky, he stood once more atop the rampart and steeled his eyes upon the vast city. He waited until he saw the flickering of a torch being lit in a small alcove and waited a moment before lighting the torch beside him. He touched his cheek where she had left her kiss upon him and smiled. _I miss you already, my sweet Sigrid._

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Thranduil**

“If you are going to be king, then you can at least start dressing as one. Really Bard, that poor excuse for a coat needs to be burned.” He sighed, taking a sip from his wine goblet.

“This coat survived dragon fire! I couldn’t burn it even if I wanted to.” Bard joked as he popped another grape into his mouth.

“It is a pity. I have it on good authority that the cart from The Woodland Realm will arrive bearing fine silksand cloth. I will have my tailor outfit you in something more appropriate.” A slight smile appeared on his face despite his best efforts to conceal his secret plans.

“You want to make me some dresses then? Make them for Sigrid and Tilda, but none for me. We can’t all be as fancy as you, my friend.” Bard laughed, causing the creases of his eyes to wrinkle.

“I do not understand why you are so resistant. If you want any of the other kingdoms to take you seriously, then you should dress as they do.” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, Dale is your city and you should represent it with pride. These people would be starving or worse had you not the presence of mind to lead them here.”

“Me? You’re the savior who showed up at the gates bearing food and water. Without you, we never would have survived.” He could feel Bard’s eyes upon him while he listened to the bowman speak.

“I arrived with bread. You killed a dragon or have you forgotten about that? I dare believe anyone here has forgotten.” He said as he flicked his hand.

“It was a lucky shot at best. I was only trying to defend my family. I did not seek out infamy.” Bard’s voice grew quiet.

“And yet here you are.” He gave the bowman a sly smile. “The former colors of Dale were purple and yellow, two colors that no longer suit this city or these people. The days of violets are long gone, now begins the age of the Dragon Slayer.”

“Dragon Slayer?” Bard raised his eyebrow and cocked his head, looking unconvinced.

“Yes. That is what you are and what your family will be known as from now on. Bard the Dragon Slayer, King of Dale. I would dress you in fiery red and orange with gold trim, and on your banner, a dragon stuck with a black arrow.” He reached for a scroll of parchment and quickly sketched his idea. “What do you think?” He asked as he held up the picture.

“I think you’ve lost your mind. Red and orange? You could not have chosen more garish colors had you tried. I would look like a damn fool!   That dragon is rather good though, I did not know that you could draw.” Bard remarked from his chair.

“You look like a fool now! Clunking around in that tattered coat and worn boots like some common fisherman. Take those wretched things off once and for all.” He commanded.

“And if I don’t? What will you do?” Bard teased so coyly, he felt his breath catch. He stood, mouth agape, as he struggled to find a suitable response.

“My King, the cart has arrived with the goods you requested. The tailor awaits your command.” One of his elven guards said as he entered the doorway.

“Good. Show him in please.” He dismissed the guard. “Now, I do believe it is time to outfit you in something befitting the rightful king of Dale. And by the way, I have many talents that you do not yet know about.” He smirked and it was Bard who was at a loss for words.

“I’m certain you have many, many talents my friend.” Bard chuckled.

The tailor, a tall elf with long brown hair entered the room, carrying with him an assortment of fabrics. He placed the fine cloth down upon the table before exiting to retrieve the remainder of his notions.

“Curious that all the fabrics are red, orange and gold. You had it on good authority then?” Bard sighed.

“The best authority. Now, remove that dreadful coat before I remove it for you.” It was his turn to tease, and for his efforts, a crimson flush burst upon the bowman’s face. He never spoke this way to anyone, and he rather enjoyed the playful banter he shared with Bard. Something about the man set his at ease; coaxing him from his life of seclusion.

He did not look away as Bard pulled his arms from his matted jacket, one carefully after the other.

“I don’t suppose I’ll be getting this back, will I?” The bowman laughed as he tossed the coat playfully at him. To his surprise, he caught the garment in his hands, still warm from the heat of his body. It was dirty; caked with mud and it still smelled of the sea.

The tailor reentered the room and began to remove the tools of his trade from a large bag.

“I shall leave you to your task then.” He tipped his head to his trusted clothier before walking from the room. He lingered in hall; unable to pull himself away from what he knew would be a private moment for the future king.

“I will need you to remove this.” He heard the tailor request and assumed that he gestured to Bard’s shirt.

“We really need to do this?” Bard’s voice wavered; the insecure tone was one he had not heard from the bowman before.

“I am afraid I have my orders, my lord. The measuring will not take long.” The tailor, obviously unaware of Bard’s discomfort, persuaded.

“Very well then.” Bard sighed sadly.

He moved into the doorway, he wanted to know what distressed his friend so much. His confusion was put to rest as he watched Bard reluctantly remove his frayed tunic; the bowman hoisted the garment over his shoulders and as he saw what the tattered clothing covered, he felt the air leave his lungs. Welts made by a rod; red, raised and old littered his chest and back. Scars fell in deep jagged lines down the length of his torso. Angry wounds, long since healed, puckered and contorted the skin below his stomach.

The tailor quickly looked away, unable to conceal the horror in his eyes. He gasped aloud and his eyes caught the brilliant hazel of Bard’s, and neither moved.

“Leave us.” He commanded to the elf who scattered without a word.

He swallowed hard before permitting himself to look upon the body of his dear friend. “How?” The word barely choked out of him.

“My father died when I was young. My mother married again out of desperation a year later. Her new husband was a fisherman who immediately moved into our home and took over. On the second night, he beat me with a rod to let me know my place. I want to tell you that it was just the once, but that would be a lie.” Bard bit his bottom lip as he winced.

“Go on.” He said.

“Over the years, he took to beating me as a means of sport. He took pleasure in hurting me and my mother. I could hear her crying as I lay in my bed at night. I’ve never felt so helpless.” As Bard spoke, he felt his fingers clench and his jaw tighten.

“The night he gave me these,” he said pointing to the jaded lines running the length of his body, “My mother died giving birth to his child. The babe, a boy, was stillborn.” Bard’s eyes were far away as he spoke, he drew in a deep breath before continuing. “After that, I was put to work on a boat and I bore the hard labor of fishing and ferrying. I’ve worked as a bargeman ever since. Eventually he died from the drink and I moved on with my life.”

“You see, I am no king. Kings have scars from battle, noble wounds they wear with pride- wounds that garner respect. I was a scared child who could not defend himself or his mother. I do not deserve to wear a crown or govern over anyone. I’m just a poor man in a shabby coat with a lifetime of shame upon my body.” He cast his gaze down at the floor; the soft waves of his hair fell forward, obscuring his face.

“Your scars are nothing to be ashamed of Bard. What could you have done against such a man?” He whispered as he moved slowly towards where the bowman was standing. His long fingers reached out, lightly touching a deep welt left so many years before and he was instantly reminded of his own scars he kept hidden from the world: permanent wounds that constantly reminded him of his youthful ignorance and the terrible price he paid because of his pride.

“I have always been too ashamed to show people. Outside of my wife, you and the tailor are the only others who have seen me this way.” Bard ran his hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed by his appearance.

“I understand why you want to keep them secret.” He turned away, touching his hand to his cheek. _How can I tell him that I am also damaged; that_ _one foolish mistake years ago left me hideously disfigured?_ _I cannot. If he were to see me, I would lose him._ The thought of revealing himself to Bard filled him with a powerful fear, a fear he knew all too well.

He glanced back at the bargeman and was struck by how impossibly handsome he looked standing in the broken light of the afternoon sky as it spilled in through the open window. His powerful arms and broad shoulders, thick with muscle from his years on the water, shrouded in the warm glow of sunlight and his face awash with softness and vulnerability; he was a glorious sight to behold. His eyes continued to follow the light as it rained down upon Bard’s body; his scars, no longer harsh marks from childhood abuse, but undeniable proof of a life lived with honor, courage and strength. Somehow, the scars only increased the feelings he harbored for the mortal man. A curious confusion overwhelmed him, and in that moment, he felt most unworthy.

“Please, let us not dwell on this sadness. Here, have a drink and I will recall the tailor. I have some business I must attend to, and I leave you in his capable hands.” His voice wavering as he spoke, his hands trembling as he poured the wine. “I must go.”

He could hardly breathe as he struggled to keep himself from falling into the cold stone walls. _What is it about him that pulls me so completely?_ He needed to be alone, to compose himself and to gather his thoughts. Stumbling into his tent, he collapsed upon the bed, panting and trembling; he tried desperately to steel his resolve. _He is everything that I am not. I am a coward and an arrogant fool, and I have nothing to offer._

Sleep would not come to him that night, and the darkness only intensified his feelings of loneliness as he lay restlessly in his bed. He recalled the night when Bard had first come to him after the battle; how sincere and caring he had been, the feeling of his hands and the kindness in his eyes. _There is a reason the people want him as their king, his heart is pure and courage is unwavering. Such a creature is not meant for this world, certainly not meant for me._ He knew that the time for him to return to The Woodland Realm was fast approaching, but first, there was one task that only he could see through. _At first light, I ride for Erebor._

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Thorin**

He tossed and turned among the blankets and pillows that covered him, unable to shake off the terrible dream that had caused him to awaken so abruptly. Each time he closed his eyes, the image of Azog the Defiler thrusting his sword arm through Bilbo’s small body exploded in his mind. _Azog is dead, why does he continue to haunt my dreams?_ He sat up and ran his hands through his graying hair as he hung his head. _Bilbo is in danger, I can feel it. Dis is right; I need to keep him safe._

His knees and ankles released a loud crack as he stood up, followed by his back as he arched in a deep stretch. _I am a relic,_ he thought while wiping the sleep from his eyes. _It must be close to morning._ He fumbled to light the candles situated upon his night stand, silently cursing the darkness that came with living underground.

The kingdom was quiet in the early morning.   The stillness and silence brought him comfort as he walked through the halls. If he was being honest with himself, he truly missed the quest and the adventures, but also the time he was able to spend with those closest to him. He wandered out onto the rampart, and sat down against the cold rocks to watch the sun peaking over the horizon. So much had changed in the months since the reclamation of Erebor, and more would need to change if he was to remain King Under the Mountain.

“I…I’m so sorry to disturb you, Thorin. I mean King Thorin.” A soft voice behind him announced. “I did not realize you also enjoyed watching the sun rise.”

“Bilbo! You’re not disturbing me.” His face lifted as he looked upon the hobbit, seeing him alive and well brought him comfort.

“I like to come out here sometimes, in the wee hours, just to see the breaking of a new day.” Bilbo smiled. “The air is beginning to chill, winter is not far away.”

“Winter will be upon us soon enough and with it, our first challenges; keeping everyone fed and warm through the harsh cold will prove difficult. I wish it were only springtime and that warm days were ahead of us. Do you remember the feeling of the summer wind as we walked through the fields in the days before Beorn’s house? When the wind came, blowing the tufts of the weeds until they scattered through the air, and all around us was a cloud of white?” He reminisced.

“Yes, I remember. If I am not mistaken, I sneezed considerably on account of my allergies.” The halfling said as he scrunched up his nose.

“I miss those days. My objective was so clear; no meetings, no politics and no formalities.” He sighed while scratching at his beard.

“But you are the King now. Is this not what you wanted?” Bilbo asked, the sun shining in his eyes as he spoke.

“What I want is to be able to make my own decisions and not have to appease those whose opinions matter not to me.” He said gritting his teeth.

“I did not realize that you were so unhappy.” Bilbo whispered.

“The last time I was truly happy was that day in the field: Fili and Kili laughing at Balin’s distress over breathing in the weeds and Dwalin walking around with seed pods in his beard for days, sleeping under the stars and the smell of Bombur’s stew cooking. That felt like home.” He sighed.

“I do not miss the road at all.” Bilbo began with a laugh. “Too much walking and too little comfort, we were always half-starved, near death and in terrible peril. I would not call that home.”

“Bilbo, do you ever miss The Shire?” He asked, studying the lines on the hobbit’s face.

“I miss it sometimes, but mostly I miss the taste of summer strawberries, swimming in the creek and the peace and quiet of my home.” The hobbit smiled and lightly touched the thin braid in his hair. “But I have new things here that I love just as much. I love seeing the sun rise over the Misty Mountains, I love hearing the bustling of so many dwarves working and Thorin, I love…that is to say that I…” His head tilted and his eyes misted.

 _I love you too._ Those words he had longed to say for many months; words that formed so many times in his mind, words he practiced saying in secret, but could not let slip from his tongue. He longed to tell him everything that he held in his heart, to hold him close and never let go. But he knew better. As long as he was King, there could be no possible future for them and that allowing Bilbo to hope would only cause him greater pain in the end. That knowledge did not stop the words from beginning to form in his mouth and has it not been for the figure that came into view on the horizon, he might have allowed what was in his heart to flow freely.

“Is that King Thranduil approaching? _Beardless filth!”_ He cursed in Khuzdul.

“What do you think he wants?” The halfling, not concealing his disappointment, asked.

“I do not care what he wants.” He growled.

“Maybe he means to return The Arkenstone.” Bilbo suggested and by the tone in his voice, he knew the hobbit still felt guilt over giving the precious artifact to the Elf King.

King Thranduil, astride his ridiculously massive elk, pranced towards the front gate. His unearthly silver hair appeared ghostly white against the morning sun and his cold, pale eyes looked tired and weary.

“That is far enough. Why have you come here Thranduil?” He hissed in anger.

“I have come here offering to return to you that which you greatly desire. If you permit me to speak with you, I believe we can come to an agreement.” Thranduil called up to him from below.

“How do I know I can trust you?” He sneered at the elf’s words.

“I have come alone and unarmed.” The Elf King declared. “Besides, why else would I venture here?”

He considered his sister’s words to him: _You need to recover The Arkenstone if you are to remain King._ The importance of having The King’s Jewel weighed heavy on his mind, as did the terrible gold sickness that befell him. He knew he would need to deal with Thranduil if he wanted to ensure his legacy, though the prospect of being in the elf’s presence nauseated him.

“Very well. Let him in.” He yelled to the dwarves guarding the gates. “Bilbo, go rouse Fili and Kili. Tell them to meet me in the meeting room.” He grumbled.

He deliberately delayed in order to make The Elven King wait; something he knew would displease the self-important coward greatly. _I should throw him in the dungeon in order to return the favor._ The image of the flamboyant elf covered in dirt with his hair matted behind metal bars gave him a good laugh.

Eventually, he made his way into the meeting room and was greeted by an alert Fili and a half-asleep Kili. “Bilbo said King Thranduil is here. What do you think he wants?” Fili, ever on guard, asked with concern.

“Probably just here to rub it in our faces that he still has The Arkenstone.” Kili said as he released a loud yawn.

“I do not know why he has come, but I need you both to behave appropriately.” He commanded as he stared directly at Kili, who for his part, simply shrugged. “You can send the elf in now.”

The door opened and Thranduil swept inside, his long gown trailing behind him. He attempted to sit in one of the chairs, but his great height made it difficult. Seeing the elf struggle gave him tremendous pleasure, though he tried not to show it, he could not help but smirk.

“I have come to offer the return of your precious Arkenstone in exchange for The Gems of Pure Starlight. They belong, by right, to my people and I will see them returned.” Thranduil said elegantly despite his obvious discomfort.

“That is why you have come? Could you not send someone to make this request in your name?” Fili asked, quite confused.

“By appearing in person, you would recognize that my offer is genuine, so no, I could not have sent another in my place.” Thranduil retorted. “There is a secondary reason for my appearance; I am asking you to create a crown.”

“You want us to make you a crown?” Kili punctuated in disbelief.

“Not for me and not just any crown. I want you to make this crown for The King of Dale.” Thranduil pulled a piece of parchment from his long sleeve; on it, a diagram detailing a complicated outline. “It must be made of gold. It needs to be ornate and masculine, fit for a proper king.” The Elven King spoke plainly and calmly. “Also, his children, the Prince and Princesses shall need adornments as well. For your work, you will be well compensated and I shall deliver The Arkenstone upon completion. I trust you are up to the task.” He returned the smirk and raised one of his oversized eyebrows.

This was a most unexpected request and one he did not anticipate. The design would be difficult to create and he knew it would require the work of his most talented goldsmiths. He looked to his two nephews, curious to hear their opinions on the matter. Fili and Kili, both appearing as confused as he, nodded in agreement. He sat up straighter and cleared his throat, preparing to deliver his answer.

“Very well, we shall make a crown for Bard and his children.” He growled in a deep voice. “But I want more than elven riches from you. I want something in return.”

“What is it that you want?” Thranduil, clearly annoyed, asked arrogantly.

“I want your tailors to create a wedding dress for Tauriel.” He said with authority. The request drew shocked reactions from the room; the request even took him by surprise. “She is elf-kind and should have something of her people on the day of her marriage. We will need it by week’s end, only then will you receive the crown. Oh, and one last thing, you must deliver the dress in person.”

Thranduil sat stewing for a moment before responding. “I shall see it done. If there are no further requests, I will see myself out.”

Fili and Kili remained silent until they were certain the Elf King was gone.

“A wedding dress! Thank you Uncle.” Kili, suddenly energized, blurted.

“I knew it would be something he would loathe to agree to, that is why I asked.” He replied, causing Kili’s face to fall.

“I will oversee the creation of the crowns, Thorin. I have been meaning to spend sometime in the forges and working will do me some good.” Fili offered as he removed the parchment from the table.

“Fine.” He said in agreement. “Now, if there is nothing more, I think we should discuss…” He began, but was quickly interrupted.

“King Thorin! Dwarves from the Iron Hills have arrived! Lord Dain has already been alerted. Would you have the kitchen prepare a feast to celebrate her arrival?” Dori, clearly out of breath from racing through the kingdom, called out.

“That is not necessary, Dori. Lady Ionè is not one for celebrations.” He said while rolling his eyes.

“Lord Dain has asked for um… separate accommodations.” Dori said tenuously.

“Separate accommodations? Does Dis know of this?” He asked as he rubbed the sides of his temples, to which Dori shook his head no.

_Dis will not be happy once she hears of these peculiar arrangements. Poor awkward Ionè, she has no idea what she has just walked into. This should be quite interesting._

Ionè, along with her three handmaidens and twelve guards, appeared before him in the Throne Room looking incredibly grim and terrified. The roundness of her face contrasted greatly from the pointed features of his sister; Ionè had a gentle appearance and her large, bulbous eyes made it impossible for her to hide her timidity in his presence.

“Lady Ionè, I welcome you to Erebor. On behalf of my family, I welcome the ladies of The Iron Hills. I promise a formal introduction when the time is right, but for now, I must ask that you collect yourselves in your own private chambers. Ori will show you to your rooms, and if you wish to partake of the bathhouse, please let him know and we shall see it arranged.   I offer you food and drink, as you must be quite spent from the days on the road. Thank you for keeping Lady Ionè safe and well tended to during your journey here.” He said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

He watched the nervous woman cower away and her handmaidens giggle as they flirted with Ori; four women taken from their lives and thrust into a situation they could not possibly comprehend. They knew not the crashing sound of sword hitting shield, nor the smell of blood spilled in violence. He should never have allowed Dis to call them here; not when so much was at stake and the risk was so great. _I have endangered their lives. I will never forgive myself if harm should come to them._ He tried to tell himself that the danger was only in his mind, that while he was living, none would dare challenge him for the throne. Part of him believed this naïve thought, and for one moment, everything was as it should. _Perhaps there is no danger; perhaps I am still weary from the quest and seeing threats when none exist. Yes,_ he thought, _all is well in Erebor. There is nothing to fear._

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short and a bit boring, but I wanted to get through this part in order to work on the next big segment of the story. The next one will be more interesting, I promise. As always, thank you so much for reading and I appreciate all your comments!!

**The Gift**

**Kili**

“So I am to be married soon then?” He considered Thorin’s words as he remained behind in the meeting room.

“That is what I got from the conversation. Congratulations, my dear brother!” Fili said as he delivered a hard slap to his back. They tussled for a moment and he punched his Fili’s arm before they embraced joyfully.

“I never thought Uncle would approve of a wedding. Much less want to have a public affair.” He scratched his head in confusion.

“I imagine Mum must have had a hand in this.” Fili suggested. “I’m surprised he asked Thranduil for a dress for Tauriel. That was most unexpected.”

“He did not do it for her.” He frowned. “He did it to upset King Thranduil. You heard what he said.”

“Is that really why you think he asked? Perhaps, brother, this is his own way of honoring and thanking her. You know how he feels about elves, and you have to know that he would never come right out and confess his appreciation for her sacrifice.” Fili theorized, and as always, his brother’s words brought him comfort.

“You believe that Fee?” He had no reason to doubt, yet wanted reassurance anyway.

“Of course I do. Now, I imagine you have some work that needs to get done. What are you going to give Tauriel as a symbol of your marriage? Have you given it any thought?” Fili asked.

“I know exactly what I’m going to give her. It might take a while to repair, but it will be a gift like no other.” He smiled.

His feet could not move fast enough as he raced towards his bedroom; he was eager to deliver Tauriel the exciting news. He kicked open the door and began singing an old love song to her where she sat in a chair restringing a bow. In grand fashion, he serenaded her and danced her around the room, causing her to laugh with delight.

“Someday I will figure out what you are saying, my love.” Tauriel said while stroking the side of his cheek.

“I have some wonderful news to tell you, my darling. Uncle is preparing for our wedding! We shall be formally married soon.” He held her hands tightly as he spoke.

“A wedding?” She paused nervously. “In front of everyone?” Her eyes grew wide.

“What is there to fear? Do you not want to marry me? Are you simply using me for my torrid lovemaking abilities?” He teased playfully.

“I want nothing more than to be your wife. However, standing in front of all those dwarves, knowing that most of them do not approve of our love, does give me pause.” Tauriel began. “Besides, I am not accustomed to having so much attention.”

“You need not worry. You will be the most beautiful bride Erebor has ever seen, and besides, I will be right there with you.” He said tenderly. “A marriage is a huge celebration in my culture and is a time for rejoicing.”

“I am excited Kili. But my dreams have been troubled as of late and I cannot help but think that danger is lurking in the shadows, meaning to cause us harm.” She said cautiously.

“My sweet love, please do not worry. Everything will be fine.” He cooed as he smoothed his thumbs over her fingers. “There are a few things that I must do before our wedding and I’m afraid our time together will be brief.” He kissed her farewell and retrieved a box he’d hidden away in his personal chest.

In the forges, he placed the box on a workstation and tapped his finger against his chin. He slid open the lock and the necklace given to him by The Lady Galadriel once again took his breath away. It was old, very old, and the hinges and clasp were worn and in dire need of repair. He assumed by the layers of salt and dirt, that the necklace had spent quite a bit of time in water. Lady Galadriel told him that this was no ordinary necklace, but a precious artifact that she treasured. Surely it must have belonged to someone important or held an important stone, for why else would the Lady of Lothlorien assign it such value?

He began by submerging the necklace in hot water in order to remove the debris, then he carefully chipped away the hardened salt with a small metal tool; carefully cleaning the piece until it was spotless. The necklace was dwarven made, of that fact he was certain, and seeing the work of his ancestors filled him with pride. He made the necessary repairs and examined the mangled prongs that once held a large jewel; it was as if someone pried them apart in order to hastily retrieve whatever gem was set into the necklace.

 _All this needs now is an emerald._ He chose one the finest gems Erebor had to offer and sought the expertise of a master goldsmith for assistance with setting the massive, vivid green and internally flawless oval emerald stone.

“I cannot imagine the gem that this necklace once contained.” The dwarf said as he carefully straightened the prongs over the new stone.

“Whatever was in there before, I’m sure it is long gone.” He replied.

“Is it true then? That we shall soon be celebrating a wedding, My Prince?” The goldsmith asked while rubbing a polishing cloth over the jewel. “The whole kingdom is talking about it.”

“Yes, it is true. This will be my gift to my bride.” He beamed.

“Finished. What a magnificent piece, I dare say I’ve never seen anything finer in all my years. Where did you say you got this from?” The kindly dwarf asked.

“It was a gift.” He smiled. _And it is a gift I cannot wait to give._

 

**Fili**

He made his way down into the forges to deliver the plans for Bard’s crown to the master goldsmiths. The thought of allowing one of the other dwarves to make a crown for Sigird seemed absurd to him; surely none of them could possibly make her something as special as she deserved.

_I will create a diadem for Sigrid._

He began his work, heating a vat of gold until it melted into a glowing pool; carefully, he began pulling the liquid metal into long, pliable strands until they met his satisfaction. While the metal was still hot, he braided the strands tightly together, molding the forming crown to fit around her head. The braid itself consisted of many interwoven strands of gold, elaborate in design and unique in its meaning. Using the longer pieces of gold wire, he sculpted them into delicate tendrils designed to match the natural curl of Sigrid’s hair.

He toiled for hours, exactly how long, he did not know for he had lost track of time completely. The heat from the fire scorched his back and the burning metal left his fingers and hands littered with blisters.  He stepped back a moment to examine his creation; the diadem, while precious in design and craftsmanship, was lacking.

Unsatisfied, he wandered towards the room where the gem cutters were busy polishing the stones found in the depths of the mine. He walked past each gem station, examining dozens of precious stones from the soft blue of aquamarine, to the amber hue of citrine. None were suited for Sigrid’s crown. The gem he was looking for needed to be rich in color and warm in tone; important and rare, as unique as the woman who would be wearing the creation.

He was frustrated and made the decision to continue the search in the morning. Diadem in hand, he found his way to his usual sitting spot in the evening and lit the torch in anticipation of seeing a familiar light burning in the City of Dale. Despite the distance, whenever he saw her flame ignite, he felt her presence in his heart. A few moments passed before the spark he’d been anticipating burned into view, and he could not help but grin. He waved a hand in front of his torch and watched as she repeated the action. He smiled, for this had become their ritual; to greet the other with a sign of life. She was there across the way from him, sitting in the glow of the firelight.

He sat back against the rock and held the diadem up so the fire from Sigrid’s torch could be seen through the opening in the crown. He watched the flame as it danced between the swirls of gold, and he was instantly struck with inspiration.  

Invigorated by his excitement, he dashed down the stairs and ran through the halls until he reached the door to his bed chamber. Pushing aside his knives and swords resting atop a carved chest, he pulled out a small wooden box and opened the lid; inside, sitting nestled in a piece of fine silk, lay a pair of matching oval shaped stones. He removed one and held it up to the light; fitting comfortably in the palm of his hand, the stone was flawless, the cut was ideal and the color was stunningly perfect. Working through the night, he set the spectacular jewel in the center of the diadem until the task was completed. Exhausted and thoroughly spent, he set the finished crown on the table in front of him and admired his work.

  1. He said quietly to himself. _Absolutely perfect. A gift fit for a princess, my princess._



He did not ponder the implications of what he had done nor did he consider how the kingdom would react to the sight of this particular gem atop the head of Dale’s Princess. He allowed himself to be guided by his heart, and his heart has never led him astray before. On his way back to his chamber, diadem in hand, he walked past Dori and bid him a good morning. He smiled to himself as he placed his precious creation on the dresser beside his bed. _There is no turning back now,_ he thought as he drifted off to sleep; a sleep filled with dreams of love and happiness.

 

**What Lies in the Shadows**

“Surely, My Lord, Thorin cannot expect us to attend this _blasphemous_ wedding! I would sooner burn the city than show my face.” Hannir scowled.

“Why should we celebrate something that we do not approve?” Nyr said as the other dwarves nodded in agreement.

“Let me make something perfectly clear.” Nain began as his lip twitched. “All of you will attend this farce and you will drink, eat and dance like fools.”

“But why…” One of the dwarves from The Iron Hills began in protest.

“Do you not think that Thorin will be watching the crowds to see who is in attendance and who is not? Do you not think that he will then make note of the missing and put his little spies on them? They are already suspicious. We must play our parts and appear to be supportive. So when the day of the _Elf Prince’s_ wedding arrives, I expect to see all of you there.” Nain turned his back to the group as he spoke. “Tell me, what do you know about the dwarf women that Dis is assembling? Who among them could offer something of value to our cause?”

“What of the women who arrived today? Foretè, Anyal or Misanè from The Iron Hills?” Hannir suggested with a hint of fear in his voice. “All come from well connected families, all are lovely and would make suitable wives.”

“They are Ionè’s handmaidens, meaning their families are loyal to my Uncle Dain. No, none of them are what I need. What of the women from Moria?” Nain asked.

“Grenda, Grundin’s daughter, has potential. Her father is from Moria and he would do anything to see her married to someone important. Although, Grenda is rather…” Bildr paused.

“She’s hideous, hence why she remains unmarried. No one has proposed marriage to her. But I don’t care what she looks like. Do you think her father would support my cause?” Nain asked.

“I believe he would, My Lord.” Nyr placated.

“Good. When she arrives, I will set my sights on courting her, and all the while persuading her father to join me. Certainly marrying his disgusting daughter to a Durin noble will ingratiate him. We must assemble our army. I have the support of several families from The Iron Hills, but I want Moria also. However, if we are to defeat Thorin, we will need more than just dwarves on our side.” Nain considered. “And there is the King of Dale to contend with also, I know that if Thorin calls on him for aid, he will answer. We need to learn more about this Dragon Slayer.” He sneered.

“What do you suggest we do, My Lord?” Nry asked.

“One of you should volunteer to tend to the wheat fields and another join the hunting party; build the trust of the men in the village while you probe them for information.” Nain said while pulling apart a crust of bread. “I imagine they will need the fields to prosper and if they are to survive the long, harsh winter. As will we.” He roused.

“I shall work the fields, My Lord.” Hannir offered. “It would be my pleasure to further the cause in any way I can.”

“I will join the hunting party.” Bildr pledged.

“Very well. Now, I must ask all of you to leave my chambers. We cannot be seen congregating together for it might arouse suspicion.” Nain cautiously opened the door to allow the other conspirators to slip away unnoticed.

_I cannot wait until I am able to make my move. Soon enough._

 

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Thorin**

“You wanted to see me, My King?” Nori asked as he entered Thorin’s personal entertaining room.

“Yes, please come in and sit.” He said warmly.

“Lady Dis, always a pleasure to see you.” Nori said as he smiled to his childhood friend.

“Nori, we are going to be direct with you; we have reason to suspect there might be some opposition to the upcoming wedding, we are asking for you to use your skill of stealth to uncover those who complain the loudest.” Dis glanced at him before continuing. “Obviously, we are asking you to keep anything you hear to yourself until you are able to report to us.”

“You’re asking me to spy for you?” Nori said with surprise.

Dis continued to look at him; silently determining how much information they were willing to reveal to their friend.

“Yes, I suppose that is what we are asking of you, Nori. But there is more behind it than just grumblings about the elf. There has been talk of discontent, and we want to keep our eyes on those who might… pose a threat.” He said tenuously, trying not to betray his deeper concerns.

“Of course I will do as you ask. If there is someone foolish enough to plan an attack against Kili and Tauriel, count on me to root them out.” Nori nodded to Dis. “Tell me, do you honestly believe one among us is treacherous?”

“Anything is possible. Be alert Nori and thank you for your continued loyalty.” He said as he stood and placed his arm atop Nori’s shoulder.

“Always My King. Lady Dis, I promise I will do everything I can to keep your son safe from harm.” Nori said stoically.

They waited for Nori to leave before continuing their conversation, both obviously uneasy and concerned.

“I trust him to find the source of this rebellion.” He affirmed as he poured two glasses of wine from an elaborately carved stone jar.

“I know. His background as a thief might actually be useful for more than just lifting keys and opening doors.” Dis closed her eyes while taking a sip from her glass.

“We can only hope. Do you think that we are being overly cautious?” He sat back in his chair and rested his glass on his knee.

“No, I do not. You know as well as I that hatred for the elves runs deep in our culture. You also know that the vast majority have their own opinions about my son and I am not willing to take any chances.” Dis retorted.

“I suppose you’re right sister.” He sighed and he shook his head.

“Have you given any more thought to what we discussed?” She asked gingerly.

He grunted and Dis knew to drop the subject. _How can I betray my vow to Frerin? How can I ask Bilbo to leave?_ The entire dilemma caused his head to ache.

A knock at the door interrupted the tense moment and Dwalin appeared in the entryway.

“My Lady, you told me to inform you when the women for Moria arrive. I have come to tell you that they are here.” Dwalin reported before closing the door behind him.

“Well, you cannot dodge the subject any longer. Excuse me brother, I must welcome an old friend.” Dis said before downing the rest of her glass of wine in one large swig.

 _I am in no mood for this,_ he thought to himself. _I wonder how Fili is going to react to the news that he is meant to marry one of these women. Our lives are no longer our own._

**The Arrival**

“By my beard! Do my eyes deceive me, or can I really be looking upon my dear brothers?” Bona’s voice echoed through the cavernous room, and all eyes looked up to see the boisterous dwarf woman standing before them. Dressed in pants and a long tunic, with her long, thick braids falling in a frizzy mess; Bona was a stark contrast from the other dwarf women who trailed behind her with their pristine gowns and well groomed hair.

“Bona!” Bofur yelled as he ran towards her. Bombur, his mouth filled with bread and cheese, stood and gave chase after his brother.

“My big brother! Oh Bofur m’love, you still be wearing the hat I made you! Bald as ever underneath, I imagine.” Bona laughed. “My wee baby brother, come here and let me have a look at you. Mahal! How thin you’ve gotten! What’s wrong with you Bofur, you be starving him half to death!” Bona scolded as she threw her arms around her family. “Bombur, my sweet bearn! I’m so happy to see you too.” She pulled the end of her sleeve down to wipe away the tears that were streaming from Bombur’s eyes before wiping away her own.

“How was the journey here?” Bofur asked eagerly.

“You know full well how it was; terribly long and filled with too many complaining dwarves! Had I been on my own, I would have been here ages ago. You know how these prissy maids are; demanding a rest, refusing to budge ‘til they had breakfast and always grumbling about the walking.” Bona’s arms flailed wildly while she spoke.

“We are right thankful that you arrived safely.” Bofur said as he pressed his forehead against hers and kissed her gently on the cheek.

“I’ve missed you both something dreadful, and I admit my eyes have been craving to see Erebor, but I do not think Dis summoned me here for a reunion. Tell me big brother, what do you know of this?” Bona put her arms around both dwarves’ necks and led them towards a table filled with a bounty of food.

“I believe Dis has hopes that you will be…um… courted.” Bofur said nervously.

“Bah! Do not tell me that she wants me to marry one of the Durins. Who would she see me betrothed to? Surely not Fili, he’s much too young for the likes of me, though he is right pleasant to look at. I heard that Kili has found himself an elf-wife, so who is left?” She cocked her head to the side and stared hard at Bombur before throwing her head backwards and rolling her eyes. “Ah no! She cannot mean Thorin!”

“What is so wrong with Thorin?” Bofur asked. “He is the King, the most powerful dwarf of them all and not altogether unattractive.”

“Oh he’s handsome enough, but he’s also a prickly old troll too stuck in the past. Dis cannot seriously think that we would be well suited for each other.” She pursed her lips and shook her head. “You best be praying that there’s another reason for me being here.”

“Why else would she summon dwarf lasses from Moria?” Bofur shrugged his shoulders and Bombur nodded.

“I tell you now that I have no plans on marrying Thorin or anyone else for that matter.” Bona slammed her fist on the table before leaning in closer. “Now tell me I did not miss this elf wedding.”

“You’ve heard about it? How?” Bofur scratched his head in confusion.

“Don’t you think all of Middle Earth knows the tale of the dwarf and elf by now? Aye me, such a love story! It’s all anyone anywhere talks about.” Bona grinned. “They say that she lay down beside him and died holding his hand; that not even death could part them and that she chose a mortal life just to be with him. Is it true?” Her eyes were alive with excitement as she spoke.

Bombur nodded his head, his expression serious.

“By my beard.” She said quietly as she leaned back against the chair, nodding to herself.

“On your feet sister, looks like you’re about to be greeted most properly.” Bofur said while nudging her in the arm.

“Lady Bona, on behalf of my brother, I welcome you to Erebor.” Dis declared formally.

“Princess Dis.” Bona said as she curtseyed.

“Bona, no one calls me Princess anymore, least of all my friends.” Dis shook her head.

“Old habits I suppose. I’m right happy to see you Dis, and Erebor is indeed grand, but if you do not mind, I’d like to be knowing the real reason as to why you brought me here.” Bona, being most direct, asked unflinchingly. “Surely you do not need me to be your handmaiden.”

Dis sighed before answering. “You never were one for subtitles or discretion. Come with me then, we have much to discuss.”

Bona kissed her brothers goodbye on the forehead, then followed Dis into a small chamber.

“I imagine you must have some notion as to why you’re here.” Dis began while pouring them both a glass of wine.

“You want me to marry a Durin Son.” Bona replied as she graciously accepted the glass.

“Yes.” Dis said without any attempt to hide her motives. “I want you to marry Thorin.”

Bona took a large sip from her wine while she considered Dis’s honesty. “Will you please tell me why you feel the need to meddle in the affairs of others, including your brother?”

“I will not lie to you, there is much discontent here and I fear a rebellion is forming. I have hopes that a wedding between Moria and Erebor will unite the scattered dwarves and rally them to our aid.”

“Oh Dis, it’s going to take more than a marriage to unite the dwarves of Moria. I fear you’ve placed too much importance on me and my value among my people.”

“There is more to it, Bona. Thorin is King and he should have a Queen who will bear him heirs. I fear that he has no intention of securing the future of Erebor.” Dis continued to make her case.

“You cannot force Thorin to do that which he does not want. You know how he is; stubborn as any and unyielding in his ways. Besides, the only reason we even be standing here now is due to the success of the quest. As far as I’m concerned, The Company has earned the right to do whatever they please. If my brother Bombur wanted to marry a block of cheese, I would gladly celebrate in his happiness and pass the bread.” Bona laughed aloud.

“I will do anything necessary to protect my family and keep them safe, and if arranging marriages to prominent families will protect them, than that I shall see it done.” Dis argued.

“Do you not think that they’re competent enough to make sound decisions and strong enough to defend themselves?” Bona grumbled while helping herself to more wine.

“If times were different, maybe I would not worry so, but I cannot shake this terrible feeling that keeps me awake at night. I fear that something dangerous is coming for us. It holds fast to my heart and consumes my thoughts.” Dis shuddered as she lowered her voice. “I do not know, Bona, it disturbs me so.”

“I know why you’re so upset, it’s because we got left behind while those boys of ours ran about having grand adventures. I love my brothers dearly, but of the three of us, I’m the better fighter. And look at you, dare I say you’re even better than I am and twice as clever. Yet we were left stuck at home, as if we were useless old maids unable to defend ourselves.” Bona grumbled.

“I hated being left behind.” Dis paused, allowing the bitter feelings to resurface. She took another sip of wine and sighed heavily before continuing. “But I do not think that is the reason for my worry or why I am filled with dread. There is something about this place, something about the way these dwarves glare at my family that frightens me.”

“Dis love, we’ve known each other a very long time, and I have never known you to be afraid. I be speaking plainly now, and I want you to listen to me carefully: even if someone wanted to do your family harm, they’d be needing an army in order to pose any actual threat. Where would they find so many supporters? Come now Princess, let us spend our time together reminiscing and gossiping instead of dwelling on perceived trouble. Now, tell me more about this elf! Can she fight? I’ve always wanted to fight an elf.” Bona chuckled as she poured another glass of wine for the both of them.

Dis allowed the wine, the company of her old friend and the excitement of the upcoming wedding to lull her into a relaxed state. Together, they began to share stories and they laughed like they did when they were young; it was as if the years they spent apart had been nothing more than mere moments. Before long, the sun had set in the sky and the hour had grown late, but neither woman seemed to notice or care.


	35. Chapter 35

**Bard**

Days had passed since he'd last seen Thranduil, and the absence in his life was made all the more apparent by the near completion of the palace; the halls seemed empty without the imposing elf with the silver hair and his sadness was palpable. The townspeople noticed the shift in their future king, and tread cautiously around him as to not add to his troubles. The sleepless nights were beginning to catch up to him, and he was growing ever weary from the demands of the city.

A currier arrived from Erebor inviting him and his children to the wedding of Kili and Tauriel, and he knew that he needed to make an appearance in order to maintain relations with the dwarves. His heart, still stinging from the pain of rejection, would be tested while he sat through what would undoubtedly be an exquisite display of true love.

There was one who regarded the wedding with anticipation, and it did not take him long to determine the reason for his daughter's excitement. Long had he suspected that she harbored feelings for the Dwarf Prince, but ultimately he understood that King Thorin would never allow a relationship between the two; especially since Fili was the heir to the throne and undoubtedly betrothed already. _There can be only heartache for her, and there is nothing I can do to ease that pain._

Interestingly enough, the same morning the dwarf currier arrived, another curious letter found its way through the city gates and into his hands; the curled scroll, addressed to Bard The Dragon Slayer, The King of Dale, was sent from the Steward of Gondor with the intention of proposing an alliance. As his eyes read over the paper, a stab of sorrow jolted through him when he read the words, Dragon Slayer, for they were the very same Thranduil had bestowed upon him. He tried desperately to force the Elf King from him mind and focus on the peculiarities of the letter. It was signed not only by the Steward, but also by his son. Strange that he would include his progeny unless there was an ulterior motive. He could not delude himself; the purpose of the proposition was not only an alliance, but a potential marriage between their kingdoms as well.

He set the letter down and placed his hands on the table in front of him, _I am not even King yet and already they come for my daughter. I do not want this for her. I've lost Thranduil, I cannot lose Sigrid too._ A deeper pain broke inside of him at the thought of sending Sigrid to live with a stranger in a far away land. Should she marry this son of Gondor, he would likely never see her again. He pushed the scroll away and he walked towards the open window that overlooked the entire city; from this vantage, he could see everything that unfolded below him. He watched the townspeople beginning to establish their new lives amid the construction and the once mighty city rise again. It would not be long now before the work was completed and the elves would depart once more for The Woodland Realm; this time for good. Realizing that all of his hopes for the future were nothing more than fantastic dreams, he hung his head and fought to keep his composure.

_I was delusional, how could I ever have imagined that he would feel anything for me? He ran from me once he saw how broken I am. I disgust him, and why shouldn't I? He is ageless, flawless and perfect._

He cast his eyes towards Erebor, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the procession heading towards the underground city; King Thranduil, sitting astride Erynion and accompanied by two elves, riding for the Mountain. _What business could he possibly have with Thorin?_ He continued to watch as they made their way to the gate and sighed wistfully as Thranduil and his entourage vanished into the Kingdom of the Dwarves. _For that matter, what business could he possibly have with me?_

"My Lord," Alfrid hissed from the doorway. "Do you have a moment?"

The sudden appearance of the loathsome man took him by surprise; he wondered for exactly how long he had been standing there watching.  "What is it Alfrid?"

"I know you're busy, but have you given any thought to your coronation? You know the people are asking for it and are ready to declare you as their King." Alfrid's nasally voice caused him to wince.

"There are more important things to be done; gather the harvest, raise the livestock and complete the homes. I do not have the time to worry about a coronation, not when winter will be upon on soon." He said dismissively.

"If it would please My Lord, I could do the arranging for you. All it would take is just a bit of gold." Something in Alfrid's tone made him immediately suspicious of the man's motives.

"No Alfrid, you have enough to worry about with the wheat fields. Speaking of which, why are you not at your post?" He asked.

"Oh well, we have one of the dwarf lords with us now and he's been right helpful." Alfrid's face formed what he could only describe as an attempt to smile.

"Good. But Alfrid, next time, please do not leave your post." He dismissed the wretched man and shuddered after he left the room. Being in Alfrid's presence always left him feeling uneasy; but the man did have considerable experience assisting with the day in and day out workings of a city, so occasionally, he was of some use.

 _Coronation_. He scoffed. _What would be the point of that? Sounds like something Thranduil would have suggested._ With that thought, the ache in his heart returned and his shoulders slouched. _If there were to be a coronation, would he attend? One last opportunity to see him and maybe even speak with him. One final chance to hope. What would be the harm?_

He contemplated the notion of a formal acknowledgement of his kingship; if he were to invite the lords and kings from other lands, he could forge new alliances as well as increase the trade prospects for Dale. He could not deny that the city would benefit significantly from a partnership between the lands beyond the forest.

"Da, you wanted to see me?" Sigrid appeared in the doorway, smiling warmly at him.

"Yes, it is about the wedding. Let the dwarves know that we shall be attendance." He said while rubbing an ache in his back.

"Of course Da. I wanted to let you know that the first hunting party returned home with a young deer and a large boar. I instructed the meat to be rationed so Erebor receives the larger share as to keep the dwarves appeased. The next hunt will leave at weeks end and will stay out for four days this time. Certainly it shall take a few trials to perfect the system, but hopefully we will have enough time before the snow falls." How she had grown over these last few months; the freckle-faced child had turned into a capable woman and he basked in her radiance.

"My daughter, your mother would have been so proud of you." The familiar melancholy overshadowed his brief interlude of fatherly joy. Sigrid said nothing, instead she distracted herself by pulling at a thread on the end of her sleeve; a nervous trait that carried over from when she was small.

"What is that on the table there? It looks official." She quickly changed the subject.

"It is a letter from the Steward of Gondor. He seeks an alliance, and I suspect something more." He revealed reluctantly.

"What is it Da?" She asked concerned.

He scrunched up his face before speaking. "Sigrid, you know I want you to be happy," he started while his fingers reached for the scroll on the table. "I would never want you to...to marry for the wrong reasons."

"Do not tell me that I have suitors already?" She laughed loudly at the notion. "Do not fear father, I will decide who is best for me, and best for Dale. Besides, I am not the only one who is being courted: just this morning, Ms Ellia the former master's niece, asked me to give you her regards." She attempted to be very seriously, but ended up giggling.

"Ms Ellia, the overly friendly wife of the tax collector, rest his poor soul. I assume then she is done mourning the loss of her husband." He scratched at the scraggly hair on his chin.

"The very same. I imagine once you are King, you will have a never ending stream of well meaning ladies sending their best." She teased.

"And they will all leave disappointed. I'd sooner marry that dragon than Ms Ellia or any other eager woman." He dismissed the notion of being wooed.

"I would not have imagined the dragon being your first choice. Are you certain there is no one else you'd prefer to a dead beast?" Sigrid always had a way of knowing things he preferred to keep secret.

"None that would have me, I'm afraid." His eyes lowered as he spoke. "I do not understand, I thought..." She stumbled over her words, confused and distressed.

"Sometimes the things we want are not meant for us." He tried to quiet the waver in his tone and the break in his voice.

"Da, I am so sorry. It does not make sense..." Sigrid continued to scramble for some rational explanation, and he hadn't the heart to tell her the reason.

"Do not worry for me, I am fine. It was just a dream." He sighed. "Come now, I have something important I want you to do for me."

"Anything for you father." She said as she cleared her throat.

"Will you arrange for a coronation? Nothing fancy, just a formal affair to celebrate the rebuilding of the city. Please, invite dignitaries from Gondor, Rohan, Bree and wherever else you see fit. Make certain to extend personal invitations to Erebor." He said officially.

"What of The Woodland Realm? Certainly we should invite the elves." She paused.

"Naturally." His eyes shifted once more to gaze out the window towards the dwarves city.

"I shall see it done." Sigrid offered him a fleeting smile before giving him a farewell kiss.

The date was set, the invitations sent and the preparations begun; Dale was to crown its first king in nearly a century.

**Thranduil**

For the second time in a week, he found himself in the underground city of the dwarves; repulsive, foul smelling and the air stifling. Given his immense height, he was accustomed to being an imposing figure to those around him, yet in the massive halls of Erebor, he felt small and vulnerable. _The sooner I leave this forsaken city, the better._

In his hands, he carried a small wooden chest that contained something most precious to Thorin and it was his assurance that he would receive that which he most coveted. The last time he stood before a Dwarf King, he was denied the gems and that one event would forever change the relations between their races. The Arkenstone, the priceless jewel of Durin's folk, was said to be the source of the terrible gold sickness that afflicted Thror; the great jewel had tempted even him while in his possession. The longer the stone remained with him, the greater the desire to keep it for himself. Those urges frightened him and he knew once and for all he needed to rid himself of the treasure.

Alongside his companions, Hatharal and Nremyn; two elves he knew would be most enthused to venture inside Erebor. They made their way into the throne room and were presented before Thorin, his nephews, Tauriel, Thorin's cousin and several other dwarves he had not seen before.

"King Thranduil, have you brought The Arkenstone? Do not waste my time, elf." Thorin bellowed as he tried to appear formidable.

"I have what you seek. Have you my Gems of Pure Starlight?" He stood straight and proud in the midst of such hostility; unwilling to lower himself before the assembly of dwarves. "First, the item you demanded." He motioned to Hatharal and Nremyn and they walked forwards carrying a long, ornate garment in their hands. A dwarf woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to Thorin met them and took the dress into another room.

"Fili, go ahead." Thorin's nephew stood up and carried upon a silk pillow a most fantastic golden crown. He heard his elven companions gasp, for surely they recognized the carefully executed design; one they had seen so many years before under much different circumstances. He himself was lost in his memories at the sight of the splendid crown.

"I dare you to find something as fine as this anywhere in Middle Earth. That's dwarf craftsmanship right there." The rotund flame haired dwarf who threatened him the day of the battle barked loudly.

 _I have seen something so wondrous._ He recalled the day when such a creation was placed upon his own head, when his world was filled with happiness and love.

"Very well." He said dismissively, for he refused to give the dwarves the satisfaction of his approval. "It will stay in Erebor until the new King is crowned."

"We have done as you asked, now return The Arkenstone." Thorin commanded.

"Where are my gems? Where is my assurance that you intend on keeping your word?" He slanted his eyes and fixed them directly on the Dwarf King. Thorin stood up, considerably disgruntled and agitated, and descended the stairs that led to his throne; in his hands he held a wooden box that bore elvish carvings. He immediately recognized the box as being the one containing the gems- his gems. The Dwarf King approached him and pulled the lid off, revealing the glittering ornament held inside and upon viewing the treasure, he gave a rare smile.

"This is what you want? You can have it. But first, bring me The Arkenstone." Thorin shouted.

"Here is what you covet." He exchanged the box in his hands for the one in his own.

"The Arkenstone is in the hands of the rightful King." Thorin's back turned to him as he proclaimed his elation in front of his kin.

He hardly noticed the dwarves reaction, for he was too occupied with the remarkable treasure in his own hands; and gripping the box tightly, he looked upon the necklace with deep reverence. The sparkling gems glittered up at him, filling his heart with bittersweet joy.

"King Thranduil, I will see you out if you wish to leave." Tauriel's voice broke the spell he was under; he looked up to see her standing before him.

" _Tauriel, I am pleased to see you well."_ He said in elvish.

" _I am very well. The dwarves have treated me with kindness."_ She bowed formally to him.

" _I offer you my congratulations on your upcoming marriage, though I see you and the dwarf are already consummated. Hatharal and Nremyn, you are free to stay if you wish. I must depart now._ " He tilted his head towards her.

" _Will you come to my wedding? It is my wish that you will attend."_ Tauriel said sweetly.

" _Perhaps. I make no promises however."_ He bid her and his companions farewell and left the trio behind.

He headed towards the gate, and was greeted by Erynion; the great elk grunted affectionately while rubbing his muzzle against his arm.

" _Hello to you too, my old friend. I am sorry I left you outside, but believe me, you would not wish to venture into the Kingdom of the Dwarves."_ Erynion sniffed at his hair before quickly pulling his head away in disapproval over the foreign smell.

" _They do smell foul, do they not?"_ He scratched the elk behind his ear and pressed his head against Erynion's.

" _We will be returning to our Woodland home very soon."_ He cooed but Erynion withdrew his head, backed away and brayed loudly; clearly distressed by his words.

 _"What is wrong? Do you not want to return home to the forest?"_ He pleaded to the magnificent creature. Erynion stamped his hoof in the dirt and continued to cry in defiance.

 _"If you do not wish to return home, where is it you wish to go?"_ He said in annoyance. Erynion turned his head towards the City of Dale and brayed once again.

 _"I am sorry my friend, we do not belong there and staying will only make it harder to leave."_ Erynion refused to relent, and shook his massive head; his mighty antlers whipping against the wind.

He sighed sadly and lowered his head; the great elk responded by once again nuzzling his head against his arm. He wrapped his long arms around his friend and gave a quick squeeze. " _I know, I will miss him too. I will miss him always."_


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has taken me ages to get through, and I am rather nervous about how it will be received. It is controversial, and I am certain I will upset more than a few people over some of the liberties I have taken with elf-lore. For those who have not read The Silmarillion, this might be a tough chapter to follow, but I've tried my best to explain a few of the mentioned events and important people. As always, I am so thankful to those who read my story and appreciate constructive criticism and comments!

**Tauriel**

Seeing her friends from the Woodland Realm, Hatharal and Nremyn, filled her with a strange sensation; she was both elated to be reunited yet wounded over the reminder that her place was no longer among them.

_“Mellons, welcome to my home._ ” She smiled softly as she drew her hand to her heart.

“ _Tauriel, how we have missed you. Please, you must tell us everything.”_ Hatharal said politely.

_“Where is your new husband?”_ Nremyn, unable to contain his excitement, was interrupted by Kili.

“On behalf of my family, I welcome you to Erebor.” Kili grinned happily.

“Hatharal, Nremyn, I would like to introduce you to Kili.” She laughed at his eagerness to introduce himself.

“It is a pleasure to meet the one who has won our Tauriel’s love.” Hatharal held his hand to his heart as he spoke. Nremyn smiled shyly as he bowed his head.

“The pleasure is mine. I am afraid I cannot stay long, for there is much to be done before our wedding. I do hope that you will attend. All elves are welcome here.” Kili kissed her hand and continued to beam with pride. “I will see you later, my love.” He winked at her before taking his leave.

“ _He is as handsome as I remember.”_ Nremyn whispered in elvish, prompting Hatharal to roll his eyes.

“ _He is most handsome, is he not?”_ She sighed as she watched him walk down the hall, wistfully dreaming of their many nights spent together. “ _Come with me, there is much to discuss.”_

……

During the days leading up to the wedding ceremony, the kingdom was alive with excitement; she sat in her parlor as a gathering of dwarf women, her two dear elf friends and Princess Sigrid from Dale all tended to her in preparation for the wedding.

“Tell us again, Lady Tauriel, about how you and Prince Kili first met.” Foretè, a young dwarf from The Iron Hills, chirped merrily while embroidering.

“Leave the poor girl be, she doesn’t want to be answering your damn questions.” Dis barked as she stitched.

“It is alright, I don’t mind the questions. Really, I don’t. I first met Kili when I saved his life in the forest. The dwarves were under attack from the spiders, and he had become separated from the others.” Her breath caught as she remembered the moment her eyes first met his; how his deep brown eyes stared into hers with such intensity. “I admit that I was intrigued by him; there was something about him that caught my attention. I am not certain he felt the same way.”

“He was instantly smitten. We could all tell for it was quite obvious.” Nremyn, who was usually silent, quipped.

“My son has never been one for subtlety.” Dis rolled her eyes before allowing a quick smile to escape her mouth.

“I wanted to know more about his use of an elvish weapon, so I thought it best to interrogate him while he was in the dungeon of The Woodland Realm.” She recalled the feeling of his bow between her fingers; the tightness of the string and the beauty of the ornate carvings on its handle. “We talked for hours, and he told me so much about his life. He told me about the promise he made to you, Lady Dis, and showed me the rune stone. He was very sweet and so passionate; he listened to me- really listened to me. He wasn’t at all the cold and greedy type; what I had been taught to believe about the race of dwarves, he was…different.”

“Love in the dungeon. How romantic.” Bona snorted as she laughed.

“The dwarves escaped, and while we were trying to recapture them, orcs attacked in an ambush and Kili was struck in the knee with a poisoned arrow. He was trying to reach the release lever in attempt to free his companions. I learned from an orc captive that the poison would claim his life and I knew I had to do something.” Her mind raced back to her decision to defy King Thranduil; the thought that Kili’s eyes would close forever and his spirit would be eternally corrupted scared her still. “I could not let him die.”

All were silent as she paused, anticipating her next words as if their lives depended upon hearing them. She cleared her throat before continuing. “I tracked the orcs to Laketown, and found Kili near to death. His eyes were beginning to turn white and the wound was festering terribly. It took all my strength to heal him, and I was surprised I had the power to drive the poison from him. I honestly do not know how I was able to save him, only that when it was over, I knew we would be forever joined; me to him and him to me.”

“Did you know then? That what you felt was love?” All eyes shifted quickly from her to the quiet and meek dwarf woman sitting in the corner. She had been introduced to Lady Ionè when she had first arrived, but could not recall a single instance where she had heard the woman voluntarily speak.

“In the moments after I had healed him, he spoke to me. I mean, I believe he was still feeling the effects of the toxin, but I will never forget his words as long as I shall live. Yes, I knew then that I loved him and that I would always love him.” She looked up and her eyes met Sigrid’s. She was surprised to see tears coating the young woman’s eyes.

A knock at the door interrupted the moment, and Dori’s voice could be heard asking permission to enter.

“Please, My Lady Dis, King Thorin has requested your presence urgently. It is most important.” Dori’s normally clam and mild tone was unusually excited.

“What is it now?” Dis grumbled as she put down her sewing needle. She hastily left the room with the kindly dwarf and the room was once again silent.

“Are you nervous for your wedding night?” Foretè squealed loudly once she knew Dis was far out of earshot. “I mean, I would be…nervous that is.”

“What kind of a question is that? You do not be asking a lady such a fool question!” Bona shouted, swinging her arms so wildly, that the gown she was stitching gems onto slipped from her lap. “But since it’s been asked, no harm in answering is there Tauriel?” Bona, the dwarf woman who she immediately got on with, winked to her while she snatched the dress before it hit the ground.

“I am not nervous, more excited than anything.” She felt her cheeks growing hot as she thought about all the nights she had already spent in Kili’s warm bed.

“Such a strange notion; a wedding. Elves do not have that custom. We do not make a grand spectacle out of a marriage. For us, it is a private and more intimate affair.” Hatharal, who had been clearly uncomfortable, said elegantly.

“Quite intimate.” Nremyn smiled warmly at his lover.

“Love is best expressed privately. It is an unspoken promise made between each other.” Hatharal continued.

“Love should be shared with others and given the chance to grow with the added support of family and friends. There is nothing shameful about expressing love openly.” Bona scoffed.

“Dwarves are quite different from elves indeed.” Hatharal said while shaking his head.

“I rather enjoy their openness. I find their ways and customs interesting.” Nremyn smiled as he bowed his head to Bona, who, for her part, smiled back.

“Tauriel,” Dis said pressingly as she entered the room once more. “You must come with me. There is someone here to see you.” Her face remained stoic as ever, and she could not read the dwarf’s expression.

“Someone here to see me?” She said with surprise.

“Yes. He has traveled a great distance and is eager to speak with you.” Dis’s eyes were fierce as she spoke.

“Very well.” She stood up and followed Kili’s mother into a room she had not seen before; brilliantly lit and filled with faded and frayed paintings from ages long past. The dwarves in the paintings stared at her with their hardened faces and sour expressions.

“Wait here. I shall send him in.” Dis nodded to her before closing the door. She sat alone with her thoughts; who could have cause to come see her and for what purpose? She did not have long to wait, because the door opened and her eyes grew wide when she realized who had journeyed from afar to see her.

“ _Hello Tauriel, Daughter of The Woodland Realm and of Erebor. I am Lord Elrond.”_ The tall, elder elf spoke softly and his eyes shone with kindness.

_“Lord Elrond, I am not worthy of your presence.” S_ he stood solemnly and placed her hand to her heart. “ _Surely you have heard that I am no longer elf-kind.”_

_“Tauriel, you are most worthy my child and I have come here to speak to you. Please sit, we have much to discuss.”_ Lord Elrond placed several ancient looking books upon the table before sitting down. He carefully opened the texts to pre-marked pages and took a moment to go over the words before speaking.

_“I arrived here, to Erebor, shortly after the incident upon Ravenhill. You see, Gandalf summoned me because he did not have any answers for why Kili was returned to life and he wanted some insight. Naturally there was doubt as to what really occurred, but despite my questions, I found myself believing the version of events young Fili gave to me.”_ He paused to wipe away some dust from one of the books.

“ _Long ago, there did indeed live an elf maid so beautiful, she was considered the fairest of her race. She fell in love with a mortal man, Beren, and together they lived an extraordinary life. When he was mortally wounded, Luthien was so grief-stricken that she also died. Their lives were restored by Mandos and they were reunited once more as mortals where they lived and loved until old age took them both. Their story is one of pure love; love so powerful that not even death could stand to see them parted.”_ Lord Elrond explained.

_“I believe what you and Master Kili experienced was something quite similar. In my opinion, an opinion shared by Lady Galadriel, your love is what was able to resurrect Kili. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”_ He paused and looked at her with utter fondness.

“ _You consider us to be as Luthien and Beren. But I am no important daughter of elves; I am just a humble Sylvan elf.”_ Her eyes wide as she considered Lord Elrond’s words.

_“That is the other reason for my journey. Have you heard the story of Fëanor and The Silmarils?”_ His jaw tightened at the mention of the ancient Elf Lord’s name.

_“Yes, all elf-kind knows the fate of Fëanor and his sons; the story of The Kinslaying and The Doom of Mandos. I do not understand what that has to do with me though.”_ She said with confusion.

Lord Elrond closed his eyes and exhaled quietly. _“Most believe of all the seven sons, only one produced a single heir. But there are rumors that after his imprisonment, eldest son Maedhros secretly married an elvish woman and she bore him a child. Either because of the devastation brought upon by Maedhros’s quest to regain The Silmarils or because the elvish woman recognized the considerable danger her and her babe would be in if they chose to stay, they went into hiding and remained anonymous even after Maedhros’s death.”_

_“There are no official records; nothing that acknowledges any that I have told you, I would not believe it myself if not for one night many, many years ago.”_ He sighed solemnly before continuing. _“I knew Maedhros; he and his brother, Maglor, took my brother and me as their captives. Maedhros was… complicated, and his sense of loyalty and duty to his family and the legacy of The Silmarils ruled his life. He lived with regret for his actions in the attempt to regain the precious stones.”_

_“Right after I was first taken captive by the brothers, I attempted an escape, but before I could reach the gates, I heard voices coming towards me. I hid and caught a glimpse of something I believe no one was meant to see; a small procession of elves and in their midst was a beautiful elf maid cradling a child. Maedhros was weeping as they left and though it happened so long ago, I will never forget the deep sadness in his eyes as the group of elves disappeared into the night.”_

Lord Elrond swallowed hard as he pursed his lips together tightly. _“I was merely a lad myself, but I believe what I witnessed that evening was the rumored wife and child of Maedhros. Seeing you sitting here, with your long red hair and your brilliant eyes, it is as if I were looking at a ghost; the resemblance to him is uncanny.”_

_“What are you saying?”_ She could hardly breathe.

_“I think that you are a descendant of the house of Fëanor; perhaps the very last of the line.”_ Lord Elrond did not flinch as he delivered the words.

_“How can any of this be true? I do not understand why you would think me the descendant of such linage.”_ Her heart was racing and her eyes began to well with tears. As an orphaned child with no family, she always hoped to find one of her kin. But Lord Elrond’s news that she was perhaps the only one remaining of her family opened an old wound within her and she could not control her emotions.

_“I know this is a great deal to process, and I sincerely apologize for delivering this news before your wedding. Even I had my doubts about the possibility of you being an offspring of that hidden child. I no longer have doubt.”_ He attempted a weak smile at her.

“ _But why would my family leave their hidden home? What business would bring them to Rivendell?”_ She asked with a mix of confusion and anger.

“ _I do not think they were coming to Rivendell, I think they were journeying to The Woodland Realm instead before they were met by orcs.”_ He spoke in a quieter voice.

_“The Woodland Realm? But why would Fëanorian elves journey to seek the company of the Sindarian King?”_ She asked; completely baffled by the possibility knowing how deep the grudge between the two elf lines ran.

Lord Elrond frowned as he chose his next words carefully. _“It is true that after The Kinslaying that the Sindarian elves denounced the Fëanorian and the Noldor for their actions against the Teleri. Elf killing elf should never have occurred and Middle Earth has not been the same since. If an attempt to repair the feud between the two elven houses were to be considered, it might be through marriage; a Fëanorian descendant to Sindarian royalty.”_

_“You think my family intended to marry one of my kin to King Thranduil?”_ She nearly laughed because the idea was too farfetched.

“ _Not King Thranduil, Prince Legolas. Furthermore, I believe the intended bride was you.”_ Lord Elrond said quietly.

She sat in stunned silence; no words would come to her and she felt the blood beginning to drain from her cheeks.

_“You were only a child then, but if your parents had evidence of your lineage, then they could set a betrothal to the Prince. A truce would perhaps give the remaining heirs of Fëanor the forgiveness of Mandos and the release from their banishment from Valinor.”_ His eyes echoed an ancient pain while he explained.

_“Perhaps that is why you were given life once again; your sacrifices led to the forgiveness for the terrible acts committed by your ancestors. But I cannot be certain that is the reason why both you and Kili came back from death, I do not know if we will ever have answers. Speculation is all I can offer you.”_

_“What does this mean for me?”_ She felt her voice waiver as she attempted to keep her composure.

_“I do not know. You did not make the Oath, so it seems you are not meant to share in the Doom of Mandos. I cannot help but feel that somehow, everything that transpired was destined to happen. Perhaps it was not by chance that you met the young dwarf in the forest of The Woodland Realm; perhaps this was always meant to happen.”_ He smiled at her again; this time with warmth and sincerity.

She relaxed her shoulders and steadied her breathing. Lord Elrond was not here to deliver her grim news; instead he was trying to provide her with history- her history and a hypothesis about the miraculous event that occurred atop Ravenhill.

_“Lord Elrond,”_ she began _. “Thank you for coming and for…for everything you have told me. I am unsure about how I am meant to feel about this. There is so much to process.”_

_“I cannot tell you how to feel, but I can tell you that I know that pure love exists in this world, and that there is no shortage of miracles in the face of adversity. I do not think that your family would want you to reflect too much on the past and the deeds committed by those who came before you; I think they would want you to begin your new life with the understanding that you are special and that you were loved. Please accept my congratulations upon your upcoming marriage and I wish you happiness for all your days.”_

Lord Elrond stood and placed his hand to his heart in a show of reverence. He left the room swiftly, leaving behind the texts still untouched on the table. She carefully lifted the cover of one of the books, “ _The Story of Fëanor and The Silmarils”,_ it read in glorious written text. She was ready to turn the page when her eyes caught sight of a symbol she had seen many times before, a mark that mysteriously appeared above Kili’s heart after his resurrection: the star within a star, an ancient symbol given to one of Middle Earth’s greatest craftsman to ever live; the symbol of Fëanor.

 

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Kili**

He could hardly contain his excitement as the doors flew open to reveal a gathering of his dearest companions and closest kin inside the grand meeting room.  Tonight was to be about him; about song and cheer, drinking and revelry, but most of all, about celebrating his upcoming marriage.

“Welcome, brother, to the feast we have prepared in your honor!”  Fili yelled as he stood atop the table.  His golden haired sibling leapt down and raced towards him, embraced him tightly and slapped him hard on the back.  “Are you surprised?”

“I knew you were up to something, seeing how you’ve been suspiciously quiet these past few days.”  He laughed as he returned the embrace.  “You never could keep anything hidden from me.”

“Sit down and have a drink lad!  Mahal, you certainly need one.”  Gloin joked through gulps of ale.

He approached the table with sincere joy in his heart; he was surrounded by the members of The Company, including Gandalf who would serve as officiate of the ceremony, Dain Ironfoot and his nephew Nain and Gimil, one of his oldest friends, was in attendance.  All seemed to be filled with cheer; even Nain, who was usually in a sour mood, appeared to be in good spirits tonight in the presence of family and friends.

“I will take that drink, and many more!”  He threw his head back and guzzled down the contents of his mug in one swift motion. 

“So Kili,” Dain began.  “Seeing that your bride is a great bit taller than you, my advice is to jump as high as you can so you can kiss her on the knee.”  He laughed so hard over his own insult, Dain nearly feel over backwards in his chair.

“Forget kissing the lass, how do you plan on fulfilling your duties as a husband?  Poor lass won’t know what hit her, cause she won’t feel a thing!”  Bofur, already drunk, teased.

“At least he’s at the right height for all the good stuff!  Don’t need to look up when you’ve already got the best view.”  Gimli chuckled as he winked at him.

As the others laughed and slung well meaning insults about him and his manhood, images of Tauriel, naked and in the throes of ecstasy flashed in his mind, causing a familiar ache to stir in his pants.  _If they only knew._   He thought to himself in amusement.  Fili, clearly aware that they had already spent many nights together already, nudged him hard in the side.  They exchanged glances, and Fili just shook his head and smiled slyly.

“Ay Fili!  You know your brother better than any, tell us; will poor Tauriel be sorely disappointed that she married a dwarf?”  Bofur continued to tease.

“Why you ask?  Are you upset that Kili is marrying an elf instead of you?”  Fili, always defensive, chided right back and was met with a chorus of hearty laughs.  “If you really want to know how Tauriel will feel after the wedding, I will tell you.  Disappointed?  No.  Sore?  Yes.”

“I do not know lads, perhaps my darling love will not come to regret that she married herself a dwarf.   I will, however, advise you to cover your ears in the event it gets loud on our wedding night.”  He grinned cheekily.

“As if we couldn’t already hear you.”  Thorin grumbled under his breath.  “Damn lad moans like a Laketown whore.”  Bilbo, who was in earshot, blushed deeply and continued to drink steadily from his mug.

“Have you asked him yet about how he plans on satisfying the elf on their wedding night?”  Oin, always hard of hearing asked innocently after the ruckus had died down; which once again caused the room to fill with merriment.

He sat with them, listening to their tales of love, courting and marriage; singing along with their songs and laughing at their jokes.  They continued to drink ale by the glassful until he felt his head beginning to spin.  He stood up and raised his mug in a toast to his companions.

“I could not have asked for a better celebration.  I thank you, my dear friends and family, for giving me such a wonderful evening.”  The liquor had taken effect, and he tried hard to keep his words from slurring together.  He looked around the room and noticed that Oin was sleeping with his head on Gloin’s shoulder, Bofur was attempting to play his flute, but tumbled over and hit the floor with a crash, Bifur and Dain were still singing old love songs in Khuzdul, Gandalf appeared in a stupor from the contents of his pipe and Bombur continued to eat the leftover scraps from the feast.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw his Uncle tug playfully at one of the curls on Bilbo’s head.

“Just think lads, soon enough we will be celebrating three more weddings.”  Balin, hazy from drinking, said with a grin as he looked at Fili. 

“Three more weddings?”  He asked with confusion.

“Ay, another new princess and perhaps a Queen.  Surely you’ve noticed the dwarf maids roaming the halls; lovely ladies meant to be the brides of Durin sons.”  Balin continued. 

“Brides?  You mean they are here to marry my brother?”  He asked bewildered.

“Ay, and Thorin and Nain too.  Lucky bastards these boys!  Such a choice to make!”  Balin said as he stroked at his long white beard.

“Fili, we are all anxious to know who you have chosen to be your bride.  I noticed the jeweled diadem you crafted in the forges several weeks ago, and wondered who would be wearing such a magnificent creation.”  Dori, who was normally quiet but was now filled with alcohol, enthusiastically jumped to his feet over the change in conversation.

He felt his head whip around to meet his brother’s eyes; why had he not heard about this diadem and how could such a mystery be kept from him? 

“A diadem?”  Thorin asked with interest.

“Indeed!  I saw it with my own eyes!  Such a glorious crown could only be meant for a princess of Erebor.  Fili, tell them how you set one of your own rub…”  Dori was interrupted by a frantic Fili.

“I have not chosen as of yet.”  He stammered, utterly distressed over the topic.  “I have made no decision.”

“But if you have crafted something so special, surely you must be planning on giving it to one of the women.”  Thorin said with a hint of concern.  “Why will you not tell us who is meant to wear your crown?”

Fili’s eyes filled with fear, and he could sense that his brother had the intention of keeping his creation a secret.

“If Fili has made a decision, surely he would have told me.  Do not rush him to the altar just yet.”  He said defiantly.  “Leave my brother be until he is ready to give his answer.”  His gaze met Fili’s once more, and he nodded silently. 

“I meant no harm Prince Fili.  I was just excited that is all.”  Dori apologized meekly.

Balin, also sensing Fili’s clear discomfort with the attention, shifted the focus of his questioning on the other eligible young dwarf.  “Nain, have you begun courting yet?  You boys have your pick of the beauties.  Oh to be young again.” 

“I know who I would choose!  Foretè, the great beauty of The Iron Hills!”  Bofur, still lying on the floor, called out.  “She has the most perfect arse I’ve ever seen…”

“And it be a fortunate thing for the lasses that none of them are here to marry you.”  Dwalin scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I am considering my options.  I will be using the wedding as an opportunity to become better acquainted with the women.  Naturally, if Fili has a preference, I will not make a move until I have his blessing.”  Nain said deliberately.  “There are indeed many lovely women and I am certain any will make a fine bride.”  His thick fingers grasped the handle of his mug and he took an approving gulp. 

“I would gladly take any of the maids you do not choose.   Except for maybe Grenda, she is much too plain and thin for my taste.”  Ori cooed sweetly.

“Poor Grenda received none of her mother’s beauty and all of her father’s features.  It’s too bad, she comes from such a good family.”  Nori frowned in agreement with his youngest brother.

“Grenda would be my top pick for a wife.”  Nain said and everyone turned to look at him.  “I do not think her lack of curves is unappealing.”

“Give me a woman with a full bottom and an ample bosom and I will die a happy dwarf.”  Bofur called.  “But if it is all the same to you all, I think I be needing to cut this party short on account that I cannot feel my feet.”  Bofur moaned from his spot on the floor, and Nori and Bombur quickly ushered him to his feet and escorted him back to his bed chamber.  Dori helped a dazed Ori while Balin and Dwalin stumbled along together down the corridor.

“Begging your pardon Kili, but would you mind terribly helping this old dwarf to his feet?  It seems I might have had one glass too many.”  Dain Ironfoot, with his eyes glazed over from drink, asked softly.

“Ay come on Dain.  Fee, mind giving me a hand?”  He beckoned to his brother.

“That’ right now, on your feet.”  Fili pulled Dain’s other arm over his shoulder and assisted lifting the intoxicated dwarf to his feet. 

“Allow me to help.  His chamber is this way.”  Nain held open the door as they led Dain out into the hallway.

“Kili, tell me how you got that elf lass to love you.  My own wife has no affection for me and I cannot for the life of me understand why.”  Dain, beginning to tip over, pleaded to the younger dwarf.

“Ah Dain, all you need to do it show her that you love her.  Lady Ionè is a good woman.  Just tell her once and a while how you feel.”  He could not help but pity Dain.  “And give her kisses, not the kind on the knees though...aim a wee bit higher.  Ladies like those kinds of kisses, if you know what I mean.”  He winked at Fili who shot him a disapproving look.

“Kisses?”  Dain asked clearly confused.  “Ohhhh, I think I understand what you’re saying.  Think the wife will go for that?”

“Always.  Plus, maybe you should make her something nice, like an amulet or a hair fastener.  Let her know she is your one and only.”  He continued as both he and Fili were trying hard to keep poor Dain on his feet.

“Here you are, Uncle, your room is right through these doors.”  Nain scowled as he took Dain’s hand and pulled him through the door.

“Nain, my lad, have I ever told you about your mother?  My sister she was, and a damn fine woman too.  I miss her every day.  If only she hadn’t died when she did, maybe you would have had a brother; like Fili and Kili here.”  Dain’s eyes began to close as he lay down atop his bed.  “You wouldn’t be so lonely…”

“Yes Uncle.  You’ve told me many times about my mother.”  Nain’s eyes grew cold and his face contorted into a sneer.  “I’m the reason she died and you have never let me forget it.”  Nain said quietly.

“I’m so sorry Nain, I did not know.”  Fili tried to comfort the sallow dwarf.

“I wish we had spent more time together as lads, but we can make up for that now.”  He put his arm around his cousin and patted him on the back.  “You are a Durin.”

“And Durins folk look after each other.”  Fili smiled affectionately.

“They do indeed.”  Nain nodded to them.  “I must retire now; the evening is beginning to catch up to me.  Goodnight.” 

He watched the rotund dwarf as he disappeared down the darkened hallway, making certain he was out of earshot before he spoke openly to his brother.

“Why didn’t you tell me you made a diadem for Sig…?”  He grinned, much to Fili’s dismay.

“Shhh, must you be so damn loud?  Follow me.”  His brother tugged on his tunic and they walked in silence until they reached Fili’s room.  He quickly shut the door behind them.

“How could I have forgotten that I saw Dori that night?  I should have been more careful.”  Fili paced anxiously.

“Are you going to show it to me, or am I no longer important enough to share your secrets with?”  He asked with a hint of sadness.

“Oh stop, you’ve been so busy lately, I did not want to bother you with my foolishness.  And truly, it was foolish of me to think I could give this to her.”  Fili removed the latch on his trunk and pulled out a large wooden box.  He set the box on the bed in front of them, reluctant to open it.

“You are not being foolish, Fee.”  He smiled.  “And I will always have time for you.  Nothing will ever change that.”  He clasped his hand on his brother’s shoulder and pulled him in close; touching his forehead to Fili’s.  “Now open the damn box and let me have a look.”

Reluctantly, Fili lifted the cover and gently removed the contents; the diadem was spectacular to behold, and he could hardly contain his excitement over seeing it.

“Fee, that’s one of your jewels.  You set one of the Prince’s gems in the crown for Sigrid?”  He reveled in once more seeing one of the rare and precious twin rubies mined long ago from Erebor, passed down generations and protected by Thorin himself who had presented them to Fili on his Sixtieth birthday.

“Trust me when I tell you that I did not intend to set one into the diadem.  It just sort of….happened.”  Fili sighed and picked at a scratch on his arm.

“I believe you.  But Mahal, you’re not going to be able to keep your feelings secret if it’s sitting on her head.”  He sat down on the bed and placed the crown beside him.  “Has she seen it yet?  Does she know you…”

“No.  And she’s not going to see it.  I cannot give it to her, not now anyway.”  Fili shrugged as he continued to stare at his work.

“Why can’t you give it to her?  You love her, don’t you?”  He grinned.

“Are you as stupid as you look?  I cannot give it to her because I cannot marry her.  You heard Balin tonight; I am supposed to marry one of the dwarf women, remember?”  Fili slammed the trunk shut in frustration.

“You should just tell Uncle that you do not want to.  Tell him you have someone else in mind; like a close neighbor and ally.”  He suggested.

“Are you crazy?  ‘Thorin, I know that things are really tense right now with the other dwarves, but I think I’m just going to defy them and marry Bard’s daughter.’  That will go over about as well as if I were to marry an orc.”  Fili said angrily, flailing his arms wildly.

“Why not?  You should marry the one you love.  Surely Thorin will understand.”  He said calmly.

“You might be able to choose an elf for a wife, but I cannot just run off in the night with Sigrid; I have responsibilities and expectations.  I am the crowned Prince of Erebor, not some common dwarf free to make his own choices.”  Fili’s shoulders slumped as he sat down on the bed.  “Kee, I have to make the right choice; I have to do what is best for Erebor and for the Line of Durin.”

“That is all well and good Fee, but perhaps you need to think about what is best for you.  Do you not have the right to be happy?”  He raised his eyebrow at his brother.

“What is happiness, Kee?  I am not sure I even know anymore.”  Fili frowned sadly.

“I can tell you what happiness feels like.”  He could not help but giggle.

“I’m aware.  I walked in on you, remember?  But there is more to life than just kissing maids you know.”  His brother pouted.

“Oh is there?  Sounds like someone is jealous.”  He teased playfully.

“No.  Well, maybe a bit.”  A slight smile crept over Fili’s face and together they shared a laugh.  “I still cannot believe you are getting married before me.”

“I still can’t believe I’m getting married at all.  Lucky for me, Tauriel decided she wanted me, otherwise I’d probably end up marrying Grenda.”  He frowned.

“At least someone is.  I hope Nain will find happiness with her.”  Fili said sincerely. 

“I hope so too.  Poor lad seems to have had a rough go of things.”  He frowned and Fili nodded in agreement.

“He has us now, and we must do our best to be there for him.  Goodnight, brother, you must get your rest for the day after tomorrow, we celebrate your marriage.”  Fili clasped his shoulder once more and they bid each other good evening.

 _I am soon to be married._   He thought to himself as he climbed into his empty bed.  _Married to the most beautiful woman in all of Middle Earth.  I am the luckiest dwarf ever to live._ His eyes began to close as he drifted off to sleep.  _If only Fili could know this joy; I must find a way for him to be happy, I cannot stand to see him live his life to please others._

**The Question**

Nain stood in the center of his room and pondered the night’s discussions; he had learned much from listening to them ramble on and on about Kili’s upcoming marriage, but one conversation remained in his mind:

_Fili made a crown for a bride, but claims he has not made a decision on who to wed.  Why would he be so reluctant to share such joyous news with those he is closest with?  There must be a reason._

He considered the quandary for a moment before the answer became clear to him:

 _Fili would keep a relationship a secret if it was one he knew his family would disapprove of.  Who could be the mystery woman that has the Prince’s heart?  I must find out her identity, for she is the key to The Lion Prince’s undoing._ His lip curled in delight; finally, he would have his advantage over Fili, an advantage he would not hesitate to use.


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long delay in a new update! I actually just got married on Monday, so needless to say, my writing time has been limited. Thank you to everyone who continues to read this and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Tauriel**

She gazed at her refection in the gilded mirror decorating her private chamber; the regal image standing before her was one she scarcely recognized.  Her dress, the one crafted solely for her, draped elegantly around the curves of her body.  The fine cream colored silk was made all the more exquisite by the thin lines of interwoven threads of pure gold and the tiny emerald beads meticulously hand-sewn in by Dis and Bona. 

She could never have imagined this moment possible; she was the orphaned child, the outsider in The Woodland Realm and the exiled mortal woman.  But after tonight, this was to be her home, Kili was to be her husband and she would never again be alone.

“You are quite the vision.”  Dis exclaimed as she laced the back of the dress tighter.  “Still too damn thin, but that is an easy remedy.”

“Thank you for doing all of this for me, Dis.  I do not know what I would have done without you.”  Tauriel replied softly, tears welling in her eyes.

“Don’t get all soft on me now, girl.  Besides, without you, there would be no reason to celebrate.  I haven’t forgotten what you’ve done for my family, for my son.”  Dis steeled her gaze at the hem of the gown.  “Look now, such a perfect fit!  Thranduil may have made something pretty, but it took dwarven hands to make it truly shine.”

“That it did.  I feel like…”  Tauriel began.

“Like a Princess of Erebor.  Yes, that is exactly what you look like.  Turn round now, let me check those braids.  Cannot trust Ionè’s maids to get them right.”  Dis fussed and Tauriel obliged. 

“Are they to your liking?”  Tauriel humored the woman; given that only hours earlier, Dis had been barking orders at Foretè and Misane while overseeing the complex process of braiding.

“There now, you’re ready.  Dwarf or elf; never before has there been a more radiant bride.”  Dis’s eyes, now misting over, shone with pride.    

A gentle knock at the door disrupted them and Bona’s head came into view.  “Forgive me, love, but you have a visitor.”  The kindly dwarf woman smiled.

“That is my signal to make certain the Great Hall is ready.”  Dis said as she scurried out of the room.

“I have a visitor?  Is it Kili?”  She asked hopeful.

Bona shook her head no.  “Shall I send her in?” 

 _Her?_  She wondered.  “Yes please.”  She said as she anxiously turned towards the door.

She did not have long to wait, as a tall shadow came into view; her hair, the darkest and deepest black, looked utterly unearthly in the candle light.  Her long flowing gown, a rich purple trimmed with flecks of silver, highlighted her soft and pale skin; shrouding her in a heavenly glow. 

“ _Light shines upon you, Lady Tauriel.  My heart is filled with gladness upon our meeting.”_ The luminous vision spoke with a quiet peace. 

 _“Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar of our people.”_ Her voice wavered as she gazed upon the celestial being before her.  _“I am humbled by your presence.”_ She bowed her head in respect.

“ _And I am humbled by yours.”  A_ rwen smiled.  _“I have journeyed alongside my father with the intention of meeting you.”_

 _“You have come to see me?  Why?”_ She asked.

“ _All elves sing of your sacrifice, of your gift.”_ Arwen said as she touched her hand to her heart. 

 _“Elves sing of me?”_ She remained confused; stunned over the prospect of being revered in song.

 _“Yes. The love between you and Prince Kili shall pass into legend.”_ Arwen’s eyes shone with admiration.  _“Your story is remarkable and so are you.  May I ask you a question?”_

 _“You may ask me anything.”_   She nodded to the renowned beauty.

 _“Were you afraid?  When you made your decision and the light left you, were you afraid?”  A_ rwen whispered; desperately trying to conceal a tremble in her voice.

She considered her words before giving her answer. _“In that moment, I knew that my decision was right and because of that, I knew I had no reason to fear.”_

 _“Did you suffer any pain?”_ Arwen’s eyes grew wide as she posed her question.

 _“No.”_ She said, remembering the stillness that came over her that day on Ravenhill; the surge of memory ignited in her heart.   _“I felt only love.”_

Arwen seemed comforted by her words, and reached out to touch her hand.  _“I am honored to have met you, and on such a special occasion._   _I wish you happiness all the rest of your days.”_

 _“The honor is mine, Evenstar.”_ She said as she released Arwen’s hand.

“ _Forgive me, Tauriel, but I did not come alone.  There is someone else who is waiting to see you.”_   Arwen bowed her head and a second shadow appeared in the doorway.  _“I bid you farewell.”_

 _“Tauriel, how I have…”_ The familiar voice caused her heart to thunder in her chest. 

“Legolas!”  Her words caught in her throat.  _“Mellon, I did not think that you would come.  Seeing you fills me with such joy._ ” 

“ _I thought you dead.”_ He said in a hushed voice.  _“In Rivendell, I heard a tale of the elf maid and how she defied death.”_

 _“I do not know if that is accurate.”_ She said as her cheeks grew red.

 _“Yet here you are, alive.  Are the dwarves treating you well?  That is, are you happy here in Erebor?”_ Legolas asked softly.

 _“I do miss the smell of the forest and the feel of the sunshine through the trees.  And I miss you, my friend.”_ She said as she placed her hand upon his shoulder.  _“But this is my home now, and while the dwarves are quite different from us, I am welcome among them.  And I am most loved.  Please, tell me, are you well?”_

Legolas sighed before giving her a faint smile.  _“I am.  I have been many places, Tauriel, and through my travels, I have had time to think.  I am learning to let go the things that are not meant for me.”_

 _“I am sorry.”_ She said sadly; a pang of guilt washed over her.

 _“There is nothing to apologize for, mellon.  We were not meant for each other.  I see that now.  Knowing that you are well and that you are happy, fills me with happiness.”_   

A lump caught it her throat.   _But we were meant to be betrothed._ Lord Elrond’s words rang in her ears, reminding her that she was the reason why her family was in the woods that fateful day; she was intended to become his bride in order to make amends for the terrible wrongs of the past.  _How can I possibly tell him now?_ She opened her mouth to speak; uncertain of what she would reveal, uncertain of what she should reveal when the door once again opened.

“Everything is prepared, have you finished dressing?”  Bona’s voice interrupted the moment.

“I have.”  She cleared her throat, pushing aside her thoughts before turning towards Legolas once more.  “ _Please, will you stay for the ceremony?”_

 _“I would not miss such an important event.”_ Legolas responded.  Before he took his leave, he turned around and glowed warmly.  _“Tauriel, you look beautiful.”_ He said as he swiftly left the room, his long blonde hair flowing behind him. 

“Come on now love, let us get you married.”  Bona grinned.

“Wait!  There is one last thing I need.”  She raced towards her dressing table and retrieved a small box, inside it held her most prized possession.  She lifted the cover and traced her fingers over the humble object.  Her fingers closed around the treasure; remembering the first time she held it in her hand, the first time her hand brushed against his.  Now was the right time for her to return the precious gift.

 

**The Wedding**

She stood at the doors and took a deep breath in; the thought of being presented before all the dwarves of Erebor filled her with a fearful dread.  A mighty roar thundered from inside the Great Hall causing her to clench her fingers around the small treasure; feeling its warmth gave her a moment’s peace.  _Steady._ She thought to herself as she breathed out.  Suddenly, the sounds of singing- elvish singing, surrounded her and lifted her heart.  The song was one she had not heard before.  _The words…_ she thought to herself as she listened carefully.  _They…they are singing about me!_   She gasped and took a step backwards.  _A song for me?_

The gates swung open, and she stood alone before the enormous gathering of dwarves, elves and men.  She took a step, and then another.  The long train of her gown followed behind her, the emerald beads glittered and sparkled, casting thousands of delicate beams of light throughout the Great Hall.  She looked up to see the massive cavern was lined with the elves, standing and singing as she walked. 

Faces all blurred together; they became shapes in the shadows as the light reflecting from her dress caught in her eyes, overwhelming her senses.  She closed them in the attempt to refocus; allowing her eyelids to flutter rapidly before opening them once more.   And then she saw him.  He stood atop the platform at the end of the aisle; a most handsome vision in Durin blue and trimmed with gold and deep green.  His black hair, usually a straggly mess, was combed and neatly braided with intricate patterns and dazzling gems.  Their eyes met, and she could see that his were brimming with tears, but he caught himself before they fell.  He smiled at her; his familiar grin lit up his face and sent her heart racing.  _I love you_ , she thought.  _Oh how I love you._

He nearly leapt off the platform to greet her in eager fashion.  Reaching his hand towards hers, she linked her fingers between his and grasped his hand tightly.

“Ready, amralime?”  He whispered to her.  She nodded and smiled back at him.  Together, they climbed the steps towards where Gandalf stood facing the assembly.  He gave her hand a quick squeeze, unwilling to let go, and she was thankful for his strength.

“We stand here today, elves, dwarves and men, to witness a truly remarkable event; not only a marriage uniting two beings, but uniting two races.  Love blooms in mysterious ways, and occasionally, such a rare and special love gives us occasion to reflect upon our own lives; how we can strive to be more understanding, more tolerant and most of all, more open to find the joy in our own lives.”  Gandalf began.

“In my experience, such a miraculous love is meant to be shared with the world.  Today, we collectively become part of this remarkable story as we offer our support, our friendship and our wishes for a long life together.”

“Kili and Tauriel, the journey that brought you both together has not been easy; each of you have faced grave challenges, adversity from those closest to you and have had to make terrible sacrifices, but your love shone brightly through it all.  Do not ever allow that precious beacon to fade; let your love for each other be the light to guide you should all other lights go out.” 

“I ask you now, Kili, son of Vili and a Durin Prince Under the Mountain, and Lady Tauriel, daughter of The Woodland Realm; do you come before this assembly with the intention of declaring your desire to enter into marriage?”

“Yes.”  Kili said excitedly.

“Yes.” She swallowed hard, attempting to keep her composure.

“Please say your declarations together.”  Gandalf nodded to them.

In unison, they turned to face each other and said aloud:

“Until my final breath

Until the stars no longer shine

I will hold you in my heart

You, and no other.

Hear my promise:

I will love you and keep you always,

For I am yours and you are mine.”

Kili winked to her as he said the last line of the marriage vow.

“Prince Kili, now is the time to offer your gift to your new bride.”  Gandalf said as he looked to Thorin. 

Fili, who was standing beside his brother, handed a wrapped package to Kili, and he promptly pulled back the wrappings to reveal a spectacular necklace.

“For you, amralime, I offer this gift as a symbol of my undying love.”  Kili said as he held the necklace before her.

“I accept your gift.”  She said breathlessly.

She lowered her head and Kili, with trembling fingers, nervously fastened the gift around her neck.  The weight of the gem took her aback, yet the necklace seemed to conform easily to body and felt warm against her skin.  

“Lady Tauriel, you may now give your gift to your new husband.”  Gandalf nodded to her, and the dwarven assembly stirred, puzzled by the addition to their ritual.

She reached for Kili’s hand before summoning the courage to speak.  “You gave this to me once, as a promise.  I give this back to you with my promise, that I will love you all the rest of life and that I will always be with you.”  She could not contain her tears any longer as they slipped from her eyes and trailed down her cheeks.  She gently placed the rune stone in Kili’s hand, her fingers sliding across his as they had done so many months before.  “Please take this as a symbol of my love.” 

His lip quivered and two tears spilled from his eyes as he looked upon the stone in his hand.  He cleared his throat and squeezed her hand.  “I accept your gift.”  His voice breaking as he spoke.

She remembered what Bona had told her about dwarven marriage ceremonies, and that she was expected to signal the end of the wedding by giving her new groom a kiss.  She leaned in towards Kili and placed a modest kiss upon his lips.  Kili brushed her cheek with his hand and pulled her closer and kissed her deeply, intimately, causing the dwarves to roar with approval.

“Let us raise our voices together in celebration!”  Gandalf called out and the assembly cheered.  “Announcing Prince Kili and Princess Tauriel of Erebor, now untied as husband and wife.”

Kili tugged her hand and together they made their way into the crowd that had gathered around them.  She caught sight of King Thranduil, who silently nodded to her.  She looked around for Legolas, but was soon scooped up and lifted into the air by Dwalin.  Her head whipped around in panic, but she watched as Thorin and Fili hoisted Kili up on their shoulders.  He was laughing and his eyes filled with happiness as the dwarves around him began singing in their native tongue while they were paraded throughout the Great Hall.  _These dwarves have such strange ways._ She thought to herself.  _Strange, but wonderful._   She smiled and laughed as Dwalin, who was usually so cold towards her, burst into a laugh over nearly dropping her after tripping over her long gown.  Such a powerful joy swelled in her heart as she looked around the room and caught sight of her husband; she knew without question that Erebor, with Kili, was where she belonged.  They were married now, and there was nothing to stop them from filling their days and nights with unending love.

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Fili**

He could hardly help but stare at her from where she sat at the table designated for the King of Dale.  She looked absolutely radiant in the vivid scarlet colored dress that perfectly matched the flush of her cheeks.  He watched her laugh as Bofur lifted Tilda onto his shoulders; how the curls of her hair bounced when she threw her head back and how the corners of her eyes creased with sincere delight.  She had such easy charm and effortless grace, and he felt that he could watch her for hours.

“Such a fine wedding,” Balin sighed as he sunk onto the bench beside him, causing him to snap back to reality.  “There are few things in this world that being me as much joy as seeing that lad smile.”  Balin watched the newlyweds dancing together with admiration.

“I agree.”  He replied while raising his glass in honor.  “To Kili’s happiness.”

“Your father would be proud of both of you.”  Balin said warmly as he raised his glass.  “To Vili.”  Balin solemnly lifted his mug into the air.  “I know it is not any of my business, but I imagine there will be many eager dance partners for you tonight, my Prince.  You should go and enjoy yourself!  You have more than earned your own happiness, you know.”  The elder dwarf patted him on the back.

He gulped his remaining ale, begrudgingly stood up and slowly walked towards the dancing pit, where he was instantly swarmed by several dwarf women.  One by one, he danced them across the floor; each one doe-eyed and smiling, desperately hoping to catch his eye.  In between dances, he drank mug after mug of ale with members of The Company in his efforts to make the evening more tolerable.   

He had lost sight of her now, and feared that she had already left with her family before he even had the opportunity to speak to her.  _It is for the best._   He thought to himself.  _We could never be together._ He glumly took another swig from his mug of ale.  _She deserves someone who can make her happy.  How can I be that man?_ He sighed sadly while he pulled at a loose thread on his tunic.  _It is just not possible._

 _It is time I started doing right by my family and settle on a proper dwarf woman.  No more of this childish longing; it is time for me to make a decision.  The next one I dance with will become my wife._ He silently vowed to himself.He drank the remaining ale from his glass and put his head in his hands.  Such a grievous decision to make; he should be thankful over having his pick of wives instead of lamenting his responsibilities.  

“Aye Fee!  Why are you looking so sour on my wedding day?”  Kili cried as he approached bearing two mugs.

“I am not sour!  I was merely resting.  My feet are sore from dancing, that’s all.”  He grumbled as he took one of the mugs from his brother.

“So I’ve noticed.  You’re quite the popular lad tonight.  I reckon that if you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a maid or two in your bed later.”  Kili teased with a wink.

“You really are such a little shit.”  He laughed in spite of himself.

“Perhaps.  But I did manage to put a smile on your face, if only for a moment.”  Kili grinned.  “I’ve watched you dance with every eligible maid here…save one.”  Kili gave him a knowing look before drinking from his glass.

“Kee, you know full well I am supposed to marry one of the dwarves mum picked for me.”  He frowned.  “Besides, I missed my chance.  She’s gone already.”

“Is she now?  That is a shame.  She looked especially lovely tonight.”  Kili slung his arm around his shoulders.  “You know Fee, I heard that there is more of the good wine Thranduil brought over by his table.  Come on, let us go claim a barrel before it’s gone.” 

Kili nudged him to his feet and practically dragged him across the room.  He was hardly interested in drinking elven wine, but where Kili went, he followed.  As they approached Thranduil’s table, his eye caught sight of a flash of red out of the corner, and his head whipped around to see her spinning and dancing with one of Tauriel’s elven friends.  His breath left him and his head felt dizzy; he was thankful Kili was standing beside him to help him keep his balance.

“See, what did I tell you?  Thranduil always has the good stuff.  And look at that, it appears Sigrid has not left after all.”  Kili squeezed his upper arm.  “If you do not mind Fee, I’m going to find my new bride.  Best of luck to you.”  Kili dashed off, leaving him standing awkwardly alone.

He could not move fast enough to get to her.  His legs felt as if they were made from tinder and his entire body might be soon engulfed in flames.  The usual steady beat of his heart was wildly erratic as he made his way towards her; he swallowed hard against the lump in his throat and searched for the words to greet her.  Her back was to him, and as she spun around, she nearly fell on top of him.

“There you are!”  Sigrid gasped with excitement.  “I mean, good evening, Prince Fili.”  Sigrid giggled while smoothing her hair back.

“Good evening, Princess Sigrid.”  He grinned while slowly releasing her arm. 

“So this is Prince Fili.”  The elf standing beside Sigrid said as he raised his eyebrow.  “We meet at last.”

“Nremyn, I present to you the Prince of Erebor.  Fili, this is Nremyn; he and his companions have been ever so helpful in rebuilding the city.”  Sigrid declared formally.

“I have heard much about you, Prince Fili.”  Nremyn nodded to Sigrid, causing her cheeks to blush a bright red.  “I bid you goodnight, dear friend.”  He bowed slightly to her and walked away.

“I…I thought you left.”  He stammered.

“I would never leave without saying goodbye to you!”  She pouted sweetly. 

“Would you like to dance?”  The words slipped from his mouth.

“I thought you would never ask me.”  She giggled as he took her arm and spun her around. 

Her waist seemed impossibly small as he wrapped one of his arms around her.  He had never been this close to her before, and the scent of her hair smelled sweeter than any flower in the field.  Her hand fit easily into his; so delicate and fragile, he was afraid he would injure her accidentally.  She held onto his shoulder tightly as they glided across the floor together. 

“I’m afraid I am not much of a dancer.”  She whispered in his ear.  “I hadn’t many occasions to dance in Laketown.”

“I think you’re wonderful.”  He murmured; once more breathing in the scent of her hair.

The music suddenly ended and he found himself reluctant to release her from his arms.  They stared at each other for a few moments, before the sound of Bofur yelling caused them both to jump back.

“Kili!!  Sing us a song!  Come on now!”  Bofur urged.  “Enchant us all with your voice.”

“Aye Kili, sing for your new wife!”  Another voice called out.

“Your brother sings?”  Sigrid, who seemed quite intrigued, asked,

“Yes, very well in fact.”  He replied, watching her as she searched the crowd for Kili.

“Do you sing?”  She smiled as she asked.

“I’m terrible!”  He laughed while shaking his head.  “No, I’m a fighter.  Kili is the one with the romantic heart.”

“I do not believe that for a moment.”  She said as she shyly tilted her head down towards the ground. 

“You want me to sing?”  Kili asked from the corner of the room.  The dwarves cheered loudly, urging him on as they lifted him on to a table.  He began to sing in Khuzdul an old love song they’d heard their mother sing to them; the low rumble of his baritone voice soon filled the Great Hall, and all were silent.

Lo, my eyes have seen many a treasure

Sparking and precious in their splendor

But none can compare to the wonder

I see in my beloved’s eyes

Suddenly, another voice joined in Kili’s song; a breathy, stunningly high pitched and airy tone rose to match his.  The song was different, the language was different, but they harmonized together in such a manner that it made even him gasp in awe.  The sea of attendants parted and Tauriel stood alone, proud and tall; her eyes locked with her husband’s as she sang.

_I give my love to you; a love to last until the end of all days_

_You are the light that summons me home, the grace that gives me strength_

Kili, altering the lyrics to the song, sang back to her.

She walks in starlight

She is far away from me

Could she ever love me

The way that I love her?

Tauriel continued to sing as she walked towards the table where Kili stood; her voice soaring through the massive cavern as she echoed back, responding in her elvish tongue to lyrics she could not possibly understand.

_I keep you here with me, in my heart, in my essence_

_I am with you, always with you, for ours is a love that cannot be broken_

_For I am yours_

For you are mine

He had heard his brother sing a thousand times before, yet tonight, Kili’s song seemed different.  Perhaps it was he who has different, somehow changed; that throughout the course of the quest, he had left behind the dwarf he once was and only now, as he stared into her eyes, could he finally understand the dwarf he was supposed to become.  He reached for her hand; the tips of her fingers brushed against his ever so delicately.  His heart beat faster and his breathing felt more labored than before.  She turned to look at him; her eyes so full of light as they caught the glitter of the sapphires on his tunic and gave the appearance of the evening sky in summer; encapsulating the promise of days to come. 

The magic, Kili’s magic, stirred within his heart a deep and restless longing.  Such power had not affected him prior to this night, but here, in the sacred city of his father, in the presence of his family and the feeling of her hand in his; his emotions flooded him, wave upon wave of intense joy sent upon him.  He knew no sorrow, no fear, no confusion, for those doubts vanished from his mind as he listened to the hypnotic melody spun from his brother and Tauriel.  Tonight, he felt only love.

 

**Fili and Sigrid**

She felt Fili’s fingers touch her own, and she feared her heart might leap from her chest.  The song was mesmerizing; sending spectacular visions of her heart’s fondest desires before her eyes. 

“Come on, it is best for you not to listen too long.  Dwarven singing tends to have a powerful effect upon those who hear it.”  She could hear him speaking to her, but her mind was much too clouded to understand him.

She allowed him to lead her from the Great Hall and out into the vast hallway until they come upon a stone door.  As he pushed open the manifold, the cold winter wind blasted against her skin, causing her to shudder.

“I think perhaps you should get some air.”  He placed his hands on her shoulders and briskly moved them up and down. 

“I know this place,” she sighed softly.  “This is where you sit beside the lantern.” 

“That it is.”  He busied himself behind her, searching under a bench for something.  He pulled from its hiding spot a large, heavy quilt trimmed with fur and wrapped it around her.  “Warm enough?”  He asked sweetly.

“I am, but you must be freezing.”  Her voice filled with concern.

“I’m alright.  We dwarves are equipped for the cold.”  He said with a laugh.

“There is more than enough blanket, really.”  She cooed while spreading the blanket down on the rock bench.

“It is not necessary..”  He began.

“Are all dwarves as stubborn as you?  Come on, have a seat and keep warm.”  She boldly beckoned to him.

Fili shrugged shyly before he slid beside her; she pulled the top of the blanket around their shoulders and settled in, her arm brushed against his.

“Look over there,” he said as he gestured towards the city.  “Your lantern is not lit tonight.”

“Not tonight.”  She wrung her hands nervously.  “It is so quiet here, so peaceful.”

“It is a good place to think.”  He said as he continued to stare towards Dale.

“What do you think of when you are here alone?”  She asked warmly.

He scratched the back of his head nervously while she eagerly listened.  “I don’t know, mostly I just think about my responsibilities and duties to Erebor.  I wish sometimes that I did not have to bear the burden of being Prince.”

“I understand.  I know nothing about ruling a city or politics or even how to dance properly.”  She sighed.  “Sometimes I yearn for the days when things were simpler.”  She shivered against the wind.

“For what it is worth, I think you are doing a fine job, Princess.”  He said sheepishly, wrinkling his forehead.  “I think about things like that too; when we lived in the Blue Mountains, before the quest.  When my biggest worry was keeping watch over Kili and making sure he and mum were fed.”

“You are always thinking of others instead of yourself. Tell me, what is it that makes Fili happy?”  She raised her eyebrow to him.

“Seeing my brother smile, knowing my family is safe.”  He brushed the fur trim of the blanket from his face before he turned towards her.  “Watching the light from your lantern glow makes me happy.”  His voice lowered.

“Does it?”  She asked just above a whisper as she bit the corner of her bottom lip.

“Yes.”  His gaze caught hers; in his eyes was a vulnerability she had not seen before.

She swallowed hard and felt for his hand under the blanket, slowly and gently lacing her fingers in between his.  He leaned in closer, his forehead pressed lightly against her own; the braids of his hair fell against her skin, tickling her cheeks.  She licked her lips as she shifted her body towards his; their noses touched, causing her to giggle nervously.  His hand raised to cup her jaw; running his strong fingers across her face.  She swallowed again before tilting her head to meet his mouth with hers; kissing him ever so gently, innocently.  He seemed stunned, momentarily frozen in place before summoning the courage to kiss her back; his lips parted slightly and she felt the tip of his tongue glide softly against her own.  Her heart fluttered in her chest and she found herself trembling.

He pulled away from her; his eyes searching hers for how to proceed.  She closed her eyes and leaned in once more; lips finding each other cautiously at first, but soon more frenzied and longingly as he kissed her deeper and harder.  His fingers stroked the curve of her neck, and she lost her hands in his golden hair as she pulled him tighter to her body.  She opened her eyes to watch him; enthralled by how truly handsome he looked in the moonlight.  His fingers continued to stroke the side of her neck, coyly teasing the sensitive skin and she silently wished he would move them lower. 

“We should not be doing this.”  His lips separated from hers long enough for him to breathe out those words.

“I know.”  She sighed quietly as her forehead rested against his once more, their eyes staring into each other’s.  “Do you want to stop?”  She whispered while brushing her nose against his.

“No.”  He murmured before leaning in to kiss her once more.   “I never want this moment to end.”

The ravens cried out to each other in the dark, cold evening and the trees in the far off forest creaked and swayed against the wind; the river flowed steadily along its course and the night-sky clouds blended slowly over the horizon, and there, by the light of the moon, love bloomed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Kili and Tauriel's song, I had translated the lyrics into their respective languages and the effect was stunning! Unfortunately, I was unable to get them to load to Ao3. I'll try to post this chapter in it's glory on tumblr (I'm LadyFlutter53) so you can visually see what I was trying to accomplish when showcasing the difference between their languages.


	40. Chapter 40

**Love Blooms**

Dain downed another mug of ale, but it did nothing to summon his courage.  She sat beside him, as she always did, yet the distance between them was wider than the mountain in which they dwelled.  From the corner of his eye, he caught the glimmer of her necklace- the one he had made for her to wear tonight, and felt a wave of pride course through his veins.  _My dear wife, the greatest jewel of The Ironhills; the necklace looks lovely, but it is nothing compared to your beauty, my treasure._

He turned towards her, prepared to deliver to her the words that had formed in his mind.  “Wife…I mean, my wife, the necklace looks good. On you, that is.  And so do you.”  Why did his words always fail him when she was near?    

“Thank you, husband.”  Ionè said as her fingers brushed against the jewel. 

He grumbled and reached for another slab of meat in frustration.  He chewed bitterly, before taking another swig of ale.  He noticed that she seemed quite uncomfortable, as she fidgeted with the ring on her hand whenever she was upset.  “Are you enjoying yourself?”  He asked with concern.

“I am.  Are you having a fine time?”  She bit against her lower lip, another of her habits he’d seen before and come to love.

“Considering my kin has just married an elf, I must say that the evening has gone better than expected.”  He reached for his mug once more, still admiring her supple bottom lip.

“Tauriel looked very pretty.”  Ionè said formally.  “I’ve never seen such affection before.”  He watched her as her eyes settled upon the pair of lovers.

“Aye.”  He smiled.  “Young love.”  Her eyes shifted downwards, and he felt the space between them increasing.  He wanted so desperately to reach out to her; to tell her everything in his heart, yet fear took hold and refused to release him. 

They sat in silence until the sound of Kili’s singing filled the cavern.  He listened to the words as they cast a spell over the room; enchanting him and setting his heart on fire.  _Courage, man_.  He thought to himself.  “Ionè, I am sorry.  I have not been the husband you deserve.”  He sputtered.

“You have been a fine husband.”  Ionè said politely.

“No, I haven’t.  Ionè, I have faced orcs and terrors without fear of consequence, but when it comes to you...”  He shook his head.  “I know you believe ours was an arranged marriage, one born of politics and alliances, but the truth is…the truth is.  Damn, why is this so difficult?”

“You do not have to be nervous.”  She said as she reached her hand out towards his, before hesitating.

“I think I am not the only one who is nervous.”  He laughed and courageous took her hand into his.  “You should know that while your father and I negotiated our marriage, the truth is that I wanted to marry you.”

“You wanted me?”  She whispered; her eyes welling with emotion.

He nodded silently and drew his breath in; he had never once spoken to her in this manner.  “I’m no good at this.  I’m sorry that I haven’t the fancy words or flowery songs, but you, my treasure, have always been in my heart.”  He leaned in towards her and she responded in kind, their foreheads touched gently. 

“You have always been in mine too.”  Her deep brown eyes gazed up at him adoringly as she brushed her nose against his.  “I apologize for…for keeping to myself for all this time.  I have not been the wife you deserve.”

“The blame is mine.  If only I had shown you more kindness and affection, we would not be such strangers to each other.  I’m afraid I hadn’t much schooling on being a proper husband.”  He winced as he bowed his head. 

“Perhaps, we can teach each other.”  She smiled warmly as she squeezed his hand; her eyes filled with light and promise.

“Aye, I can do that.”  He kissed the top of her hand lovingly.

“The hour has gotten late, and I must ask you to see me back to my room.”  Ionè tilted her head towards him; a sly smile crossed her face.

“Certainly.”  He said with a nod.  Without a word, Dain and Ionè stood up and walked from the Great Hall calmly.  They approached her private chambers and he smiled to her as he prepared to bid her goodnight.  Ionè opened the door and crossed the threshold.  She turned back toward her husband, took a deep breath, and then reached out her hand to his.  His eyes grew wide over the invitation, and cautiously, he accepted.  Dain cautiously shut the door to the outside world before embracing his wife.

_“I love you, my treasure.”_ He whispered in their ancient language before kissing her.  He held her tightly in his arms and vowed that he would never again allow any distance to come between them. 

 

………

Bard stood alongside his eldest children as he admired the magnificent carving in The Great Hall.  His eyes had not before seen the wonder and splendor of the city, and the sheer size of the cavern was utterly humbling.  _I thought Dale was a large city._   He thought to himself as he looked around the room. 

A young dwarf appeared before them and offered each a glass of mead, to which he gladly accepted.

“Da, might I have one?”  Bain asked hopeful.

“No son.  You are not old enough, and I do not wish to see you drinking.”  Bard answered and Bain scowled.

“That’s not fair!  You let Sigrid have one.”  The lad pouted.

“Aye, and she is old enough and I trust her not to drink too many and fall down on the floor.  You must be cautious around dwarves son, if engaged in a game of drinking with them, you will surely lose.”  Bard chided as he patted his son on his back. 

“I still say it’s not fair.”  Bain shrugged and kicked at the ground with his toe.

“How did you enjoy the ceremony Da?  Wasn’t Tauriel absolutely beautiful?”  Sigrid asked and he was thankful for the change in subject.

He looked around as he tried to catch a glimpse of the only figure he was eager to see.  The tall, elegant elf was sitting off in a corner, looking majestically miserable, and the sight accelerated his pulse.

“Beautiful,” he sighed.  “Simply beautiful.”

“Da, why don’t you go and say hello?  I still do not understand what happened; you two seemed so close.”  Sigrid, always in tune with his feelings, said in a hushed voice.

“Did we now?”  He joked lightly, trying hard to lift the mood.

“I’m being serious.” Sigrid insisted as she laid her hand on his arm.

“I don’t know love, sometimes these things just aren’t meant to be.”  Bard pondered his words as he took a drink from his glass. 

“I’m so sorry Da.”  She looked up at him; her eyes filled with sorrow. 

“Do not dwell on me, my child.  The time for that has long since passed.  It is your turn now to be happy.  That is all this father wants; the happiness of his children.”  He brushed her cheek gently.  “Isn’t there some young prince you should be dancing with?” Sigrid blushed and she tried her best to maintain her composure.  In that moment, she reminded him so much of her mother.

“Oh Da!”  Sigrid giggled as she rolled her eyes.

“What about you Bain?  Are you not going to dance, son?”  Bard poked his son’s arm in the attempt to produce a smile.

“Dance with whom?  The dwarf men, the elf men, the old fisherman’s wives or my sisters?”  Bain grumbled in frustration.  “No, I think I will just stay here then.”

“Very well.  If you do not mind children, I think it is time I paid my respects to King Thorin.  Be good, and Bain, at least try to have some fun.”  Bard kissed the top of Sigrid’s head and ruffled Bain’s hair before leaving them in search of the Dwarf King.

“Da never lets me do anything.”  Bain continued to pout.  “You’d think after I helped him kill that dragon, he’d at least let me have some ale.”  He grumbled.

“Come now, do not be that way.”  Sigrid argued in her best motherly voice.  “Besides, can you not see that Da has other things on his mind?”

“Like what?”  Bain asked with interest.

“Like important kingly issues.  Do you know nothing of his responsibilities?”  Sigrid teased.

“It’s all so complicated.  Which kingdom is where and who rules over the lands.  I don’t know if I will ever learn.”  Bain said exasperatedly.

“There is time enough for all that.  You should do as Da said, and try to have some fun.  I’m sorry to leave you, but I promised a dance to sweet Ori.  Try to have a good time and stay out of trouble, will you?”  Sigrid cooed before she dashed off towards the dance floor.

_Have a good time?  Doing what?_ He thought to himself bitterly.  He wished his father would give him the same freedoms that he gave his sister.  Bain was lost in his thoughts before he was interrupted by a dwarf he had not seen before.

“Good eve to you, young Prince of Dale.”  The dwarf said as he raised his mug. “I do not believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance.  I am Nain, son of Rouin and Dain Ironfoot’s sister son.”

“Hello there, I am Bain, um, Bard’s only son.”  The lad quipped modestly as he stared at the ground.

“Where is your mug of ale?  Do you require another?  This is, after all, a celebration.”  Nain gestured to one of the dwarves to bring refreshments for the boy.

“Da says I should not partake in drink.  He says I’m too young.”  Bain scowled as he rolled his eyes.

“I won’t tell if you don’t.”  Nain winked as he handed Bain a mug filled with ale, to which the boy looked at reluctantly.  “I’ll tell you, the best way to drink ale is to do it all in one large swig!  Bottom’s up lad.”  He encouraged him to take a few large gulps before beginning his onslaught of questions.

“I understand your father is to be crowned King soon, such a grand event that will be.”  The dwarf said with great interest. 

“Oh yes, all the important kingdoms will be in attendance.  It will be quite the affair.”  Bain sighed as he tugged at the sleeve of his ornate tunic.  “Curse these fancy clothes.  They make me look like a girl.”  Bain grimaced as he continued to fuss with his garment.

“They are elven made, are they not?  If a dwarf made them, well, you would not complain so!”  Nain laughed aloud.

“The dwarves are much more fun, elves are so…”  The boy began, but decided to take another large gulp instead.

“Self-important?  And that Thranduil, he is the most self-important of all.  Do you not think?”  Nain asked slyly.

“He is alright I suppose.  Da certainly seems to get on well with him, they are friends or allies or something.”  The young lad snorted when talking about his father and the Elf King.  “I do not know much of politics.”  He emptied the remaining ale from his glass and looked around for another.

“Here lad, have my mug.”  Nain offered.  “But enough about elves!  Tell me, dear boy, what do you think of Erebor?  Have you ever seen anything so remarkable?”  Nain grinned to the child.

“It is not what I expected.  For a race that is very short, you certainly do have high ceilings.”  Bain clutched the second mug before allowing himself yet another large swig.  “My sister likes it well enough though, she is always happy to come.”

Nain’s interest peaked at the boy’s words.  “Your sister, the Princess?” 

“Yes, that’s Sigrid over there.”  He gestured towards a young woman dancing.  “She is always excited when she needs to perform her duties as the Emissary to Erebor.”  Bain giggled between gulps.

Nain scoured the crowd until his eyes settled upon Sigrid; the young woman was a vision in her dress of fiery red and gold.  He continued to study her while she danced with Ori, her curls bouncing with each step.  His watchful eye trained on the Princess as she swayed and spun across the floor, her cheeks rosy and her eyes cheerful.

“Your sister seems quite comfortable with dwarves.”  Nain said with increasing interest.

“Well they did appear in our home in Laketown by means of the toilet!”  Bain snorted through his laughs.  “Thorin’s Company took up with us before they left for the Lonely Mountain.  Well most of them left for the mountain; Kili, Fili, Bofur and the old one stayed behind on account of Kili’s sickness.”

“Interesting.”  Nain muttered to himself.  “I imagine you became quite acquainted with the young princes then.”

“Not so much Kili, but Fili helped us tremendously!  He saved us, really.  I believe he and my sister are friends.  Plus Da prefers him best out of all the dwarves.”  The lad, emboldened by drink, hailed for yet another.  “That is, he trusts Fili.”

“It is good to have friends, especially important friends.”  Nain thought for a moment.  “Well, you and I can be friends too, that is if you would like.  If ever you needed anything, I will be more than willing to help.  I am, after all, kin to Fili.” 

“I’d like that very much!”  Bain yelled a bit too loudly.  “Sorry, I mean, that would be great.”

“You should have a friend you can rely upon, someone you can trust in times of need.”  Nain smirked.  “Well, my new friend, I am obligated to speak to all the attendants and must bid you a fond farewell.  However, should the need ever arise, I am at your service.”

Nain slunk away from the boy; eager to ponder the new information he’d gained.  _So cousin, you and the Princess have become quite cozy then.  It seems I have uncovered your little secret.  Perhaps she is the key to your downfall._ He hailed to Hannir.  “See to it that you watch Fili carefully.  Note who he takes up with and do not take your eyes off of him.”  Hannir nodded in agreement.

_Now, for the other task at hand._   He made his way towards Grenda as she sat, alone, at the table meant for her and the other eligible maids.  She was loathsome to behold; her face was gaunt and her eyes dark, large and set too far apart.  Her beard, patchy and sparse from her years of nervous hair pulling; angry red welts lined her jaw from the ingrown hairs sprouting under the skin.  Grenda was also tall, taller than himself and her body was frail and thin.  But he did not see her that way; he saw tremendous opportunity.    _Unfortunate girl, do not despair.  While you are ugly, you are also very useful._

Carefully navigating through the crowds of dwarves, trays of meat and clusters of tables and benches, Nain cautiously approached Grenda.

“Such a wedding, no?”  Nain, doing his best to appear friendly said with trepidation.

“Yes.  Quite the affair.”  Grenda said softly. 

“Would you care to dance?”  Nain asked.

“You are asking me to dance?”  Grenda paused, clearly taken aback.

“I can see that you do not.  I understand, like the other maids, you are waiting for an invitation from Prince Fili.  So sorry to disturb you, have a good night.”  Nain bowed his head to her and began to walk away.

“Wait!”  Grenda called.  “I did not mean to imply that I did not want to dance with you.  I was just…surprised, nothing more.  I do not exactly have many suitors asking me for a dance.  Least of all a Durin son.”

“Well I do not have many maids wanting to dance with me.  Why would anyone want me when there is a chance that they could have Prince Fili.”  Nain frowned.

“Fili does not want to dance with me.”  Grenda’s eyes dropped to the ground and she began picking at one of the marks on her face. 

“Would you mind if I sat down?”  Nain asked.

“Please, I would like that very much.”  Grenda said quietly.  “My name is Grenda, daughter of Grundin.”

“I know who your father is.”  He nearly snickered when she mentioned her father’s name.  “But I would like to know more about who you are, Grenda.”

“There isn’t much to tell; I am the only child of Grundin and Laiea.  I grew up among the community of the dwarves of Moria, where I was shunned most of the time because of my appearance.  I did not have many friends or even acquaintances, so I spent most of my time alone.”  She said unflinchingly.   “They say I have none of my mother’s legendary beauty.  I would not know because she died when I was very young and I do not think my father ever got over her death.”  She continued.

“I, too, know what it feels like to be alone.”  Nain replied despite himself.  “My father died before I was born, and my mother died giving birth to me.  My Uncle Dain, lost in his grief over losing his sister, could hardly stand the sight of me and therefore, I was raised by old scholars.  I believe Uncle views me more of a nuisance than a nephew.  Despite being of the Durin line, I am the one no one holds in any regard.” 

“It is lonely, is it not?”  Grenda’s voice resonated inside of him.

“Quite lonely.”  Nain continued to study her, and momentarily considered that perhaps she understood him in a way that no one else could.  “It is tragic, that I cannot find comfort in my own family.”  He grit his teeth and spat bitterly.

“My father tries his best, but I think that in his heart, he wishes that he had my mother back instead of being left with me.”  Grenda’s eyes filled with tears, and she did not attempt to disguise or hide her sorrow.

“I have often thought that my Uncle prefer that I had died instead of my mother.”  The words left him before he could even consider what he was saying.  Nain looked frantically around to see who could possibly be listening, but the other dwarves were blissfully unaware of their existence.  “I should not have said that.”

“Do not worry.  No one is paying any attention to us.”  She sighed listlessly.

“Forgive my concern; I have never spoken this plainly to anyone before.”  He was taken aback by the truth in his words.  “You are easy to talk to, Grenda.”  Nain smiled as he attempted to flatter her.

The melodic sound of Kili singing caused the room to grow silent; he feigned interest as he listened to the words.  Tauriel’s haunting voice echoed through the Great Hall, and he carefully studied Grenda’s reaction to the song.  _This will be all too easy._   He thought to himself.

“Your eyes look quite beautiful in the light.”  Nain whispered as he moved closer towards her.

Grenda shook her head in disbelief. “No one has ever referred to me as beautiful before.” 

“That is because they do not see you the way that I see you.”  He purred as sweetly as he could muster.

“You are just being kind.  No one wants me.”  Grenda sighed as she scratched at the red marks on her chin.

“I do.  I want you.  That is, if you will have me.”  Nain said to her, his hand stretched out towards her.

Grenda looked confused as she searched his face for any hint of ridicule, finding none.  She swallowed hard and a slight shudder ran through her.  “I will have you.”  She said quietly at first.  Nain grinned at her words and she returned his smile.  “I will have you.”  Grenda repeated with confidence.

_That’s right, dear child, trust me.  Trust me and I shall make you a queen._

…..

Bard looked up, his eyes caught sight of the silver colored silk coiffed Elven King and he sighed forlornly.  What he hadn’t expected was to see a pair of steel blue eyes looking back at him.  Bard lifted his hand and signaled a wave, the Elven King returned with a nod of his head.

_Just go and say hello.  What harm can it do?_ Bard thought as he took a gulp from his glass.  The bargeman considered how he should proceed when to his surprise, Thranduil stood before him.

“Good evening to you.  I trust you are enjoying the festivities.”  Thranduil’s deep voice sounded as soft as the silk that adorned him.

“My night is better now that my company has greatly improved.”  Bard laughed and offered the elf a drink.  “Have you had any of this dwarven mead yet?  It packs quite a mighty punch.”   

“I am content with my wine, but thank you.  Might I sit down?”  Thranduil swept elegantly into the chair beside him; his robes cascading around him.

“I heard you will be heading back to The Woodland Realm soon.”  Bard attempted to engage in conversation, yet he felt an awkward tension between the two of them. 

 “Soon.  I feel it is time to return home.”  Thranduil said stoically.

“I shall miss you.  That is, I will miss our conversations.”  Bard stumbled over his words.  “I miss them now.”  His face contorted into a frown.

“I am sorry for my absence.”  Thranduil’s jaw tightened.  “I have been otherwise occupied.”  

“You needn’t apologize; you have nothing to be sorry about.” Bard attempted a weak smile, to which the Elven King saw through immediately.  “I am sorry for offending you.”  Bard’s hand swept his hair back in effort to quell his embarrassment over his scars.

“You have not offended me.  The fault is mine.”  Thranduil looked down immediately to the chalice of wine before him, and drawing it to his lips, he finished the remaining liquid.

“I cannot fault you for being repulsed.  It must have been such a shock…to see me.”  Bard’s eyes stared off into the distance, lost and vacant.

“I am not, nor will I ever be repulsed by you.  I told you, the fault is mine and mine alone.  There is much you do not know about me.  Much you do not understand.”  Thranduil winced at his words.

“Then help me understand.”  Bard said intently.  “Please, I want to understand.”  He pleaded to reserved Forest King; wishing that he could somehow understand all that had transpired between them and the mysteries still lingering.

Thranduil bowed his head, pain resonated in his eyes.  “I do not know how to tell you…”  He was interrupted by the sound of singing that quickly filled the cavern.  He paused and listened to Kili’s song before a second voice joined in.  Thranduil’s head shot up, and he searched the room for the elf he was certain belonged to the lovely melody.  “Tauriel,” his lips parted in surprise.  “Hers is a voice I did not expect to hear again.” 

The two sat and listened, lost in thought and flooded with emotion.  As the duet continued, Bard felt as if he’d stumbled into a dream; one filled with endless promise and strange magic.  He looked down at his hands and gently tapped them against the table.  _I’m still awake._ He shook his head to try to clear his thoughts, but the spell had taken a deep hold over him.  A mist blurred his thoughts and bewitched his mind.

“Bard?”  Thranduil leaned in closer in order for him to be heard.  “Are you alright?”

Bard turned to behold the Elven King, looking so regal and radiant. With his eyes opened and his renewed clarity, he no longer felt inhibited or nervous; for as he looked upon the face he’d come to adore, he knew he had no reason to fear. 

The music soared and with it, carried his heart from his chest.  A sudden bravery burst within him; as if he were incased inside a raging fire.  His mind lingered on a single thought; _do not be afraid._ Bard inched his smallest finger until it brushed softly against Thranduil’s; running it delicately over his perfect porcelain skin.  To his surprise, the long and graceful finger slid against his in return; causing his breath to leave him and his heart thundering in his chest.  His finger linked into his, giving the remaining digits cause to interlock.  He turned to face the statuesque figure, their eyes meeting as if seeing- truly seeing each other for the first time, and slowly, very slowly, they moved towards the other; being pulled together by some unseen force.  He was a breath away.  So very close…

“M’lord, forgive the interruption, but I’m afraid there is something that requires your attention.”  Alfrid’s nasal pitch offended his ears and disrupted the moment, causing him to withdraw his hand and sit up straight.

The singing had stopped and to his surprise, the world around him continued to exist as it was before.  He could feel the magic retreating from him and he silently cursed the foul man for his intrusion.

“What is it Alfrid?”  He snapped bitterly.

“It’s your son.  It appears he has consumed too much drink and is rather incapacitated.”  Alfrid attempted a smile that bore more resemblance to a scowl.

“What?  Bain has been drinking?”  Bard said with confusion.

“Yes m’lord and he has expelled said alcohol all over the floor.”  Alfrid sneered.

Bard shook his head in frustration.  “I told him to stay away from the mead.”

“I’m certain the lad was merely curious.  Elves begin to drink wine at a young age.”  Thranduil offered as support.

“Well, I would not get into a drinking contest with an elf.  I have seen how much you are able to consume without ill effects.”  Bard laughed, causing Thranduil to offer a rare smile.

“Go on now Alfrid, rouse my son and gather my daughters.  I suppose it is time we head home.”  Bard shrugged his shoulders over the misfortune of his evening.

“I’ll fetch the children, m’lord.”  Alfrid bowed lowly before walking away.  “Aye, you!  Fetch the Master’s horses and make it quick!”  He barked to one of Dale’s citizens.

“Children!”  Bard said in exasperation to which Thranduil nodded understandingly. 

Two of Dale’s residents carried a very pale Bain between them and Tilda stomped angrily towards him. 

“Must we leave so soon, Da?”  Tilda whined.  “King Thranduil, tell Da we need to stay else we will miss the desserts!”

“Dear child, I have tasted dwarven delicacies and I can tell you that there is nothing to miss.”  Thranduil placated to the young girl.

“But Da!”  Tilda protested again.

“Yes, love.  I’m afraid the evening has become too much for your brother.”  Bard frowned disapprovingly at his son.  “Are my horses ready?”  Bard looked around the room, expecting to see his eldest daughter but she was nowhere in sight.  “Where is Sigrid?”

“M’lord, I’m afraid I cannot locate the Princess.”  Alfrid spat apologetically.

“What do you mean you cannot find her?”  Bard asked with great concern. 

“Exactly that.  I’m afraid the last time she was seen was just before the song, m’lord.  She was in the company of one of the dwarf princes.”  Alfrid sputtered.

“Fili?”  Bard asked.

“I think so m’lord.  She could be in danger.  Do you want me to alert the guard?”  Alfrid flailed around, prepared to shout to a group of citizens.

“No, I know that no harm will come to her if she is with Fili.  I do not know if Bain can wait until her reappearance.”  Bard considered his options.

“I would be happy to stay and escort the Princess home, m’lord.”  Alfrid grinned as he attempted to smooth his matted hair.

Thranduil, knowing Bards’ displeasure with the wretch, offered an alternative.  “I will stay and mind Sigrid.  She can return with me upon Erynion.” 

“You do not have to do that!”  Bard began to object.

“It is done.  Now, go and tend to Bain.  I imagine he will have a considerable headache come morning.”  Thranduil teased. 

“Come with me to the gates?”  Bard blurted out as he once again nervously brushed his hair back from his face.

Thranduil tilted his head and walked alongside the bargeman.  The men placed Bain upon a horse, but not before the boy heaved once more.  Bard lifted Tilda onto Inglor and readied to depart.  He turned towards Thranduil and marveled at how his silver hair shone in the light of the moon.

“I am thankful for tonight.”  Bard murmured shyly as he continued to admire the graceful elf.

“As I am.”  Thranduil reached out his hand and carefully took a hold of Bard’s once more.  “I bid you goodnight, King of Dale.”

“I do not wish to be saying goodbye.”  Bard said honestly.

“Do not worry, I will be seeing you very soon.”  Thranduil gave Bard’s hand a slight squeeze before releasing him.

Bard mounted Inglor and gave the order that it was time to leave, but not before turning his head back and once more gazing upon the luminescent figure glittering in the night.  _It cannot be soon enough._   He thought as they galloped back towards the rebuilt city.

……

Thranduil waited patiently for Sigrid to make her way back into the Great Hall, and eventually, somewhere between the drinking contests and the throwing of food, she arrived unceremoniously, followed by Fili.

“Sigrid, your father had to retire early.  I’m sorry to say that your brother has fallen ill.”  Thranduil said as he made his way towards her.  “I will see you home.”

“Is Bain alright?”  Sigrid asked nervously.

“He is fine, but he will have a terrible headache in the morning.  Come now, we should be leaving.  I’ve had all I can stand of these dwarves.”  Thranduil sneered to the Dwarf Prince.

“I’m surprised you’ve stayed this long.”  Fili grumbled back.

“I needed to make certain you hadn’t absconded with the Princess.  I have her honor to consider.”  Thranduil argued.

“I would never dishonor Sigrid!”  Fili said fiercely; his eyes flashing with anger.

“It is alright.  We were merely gazing at the stars and looking towards Dale.  Nothing more.”  Sigrid said as she tried her best to conceal the blush in her cheeks.  “Thank you, King Thranduil, for seeing me home.”

“Very well.”  Thranduil rolled his eyes.

“Good night, Prince Fili, and thank you for a wonderful evening.”  Sigrid said softly.

“Good night, my Princess.  Sleep well.”  Fili whispered as he bowed.

The pair walked from the Great Hall and made their way towards the gates where Erynion brayed excitedly.

“I am happy to see you too.”  Sigrid cooed as she scratched Erynion on his muzzle, to which the enormous elk responded by nuzzling against her cheek.  Thranduil easily lifted her onto the great beast and together, they set off towards the city.

“In a week’s time, your father will be crowned King of Dale, and all the eligible sons will come to court you.”  Thranduil said plainly.

“I do not think that will be the case.”  Sigrid responded.  “Besides, I am not a princess by birth, and from my understanding, I would make a less than desirable wife for any son of man.” 

“That is not how I see it, child.  Dale was once a city of great prosperity and a rather important one at that.  Any man would gladly ally themselves with such a powerful kingdom and they will try to do so through you.”  Thranduil theorized.

“I do not wish to leave the city.  I should prefer to marry someone who will allow me to remain close to my home.”  Sigrid said hopefully.

 “Someone like the dwarf prince you fancy?”  Thranduil said knowingly.

“Is it that obvious?”  Sigrid turned her head around to reply.

Thranduil raised his eyebrow to her.  “You know Thorin would never approve of a match between you and his eldest nephew; the crowed Prince of Erebor.  Did you considerer that at all while you were star-gazing with him?”

“I have.”  She said quietly. 

“Why would you even attempt to pursue something you know to be impossible?”  Thranduil asked with sincerity.

Sigrid was quiet for a moment.  “I suppose I am willing to take the chance.  If I deny my feelings, I will be the worse for it.  If anything, I have hope.”

“Hope is a fool’s errand.  You have not experienced what it feels like to lose the one you loved.  I can assure you, such is a burden you do not want to carry.”  Thranduil winced.

“If a kiss is all I am meant to share with him, then so be it.  At least I have the memory of love to keep- for no one, not even fancy lords or their sons can take from me.  I would rather live with a wounded heart than a coward’s.”  She said impassionedly.

“And what good is a wounded heart?  Why would you choose to suffer?”  Thranduil argued loudly.  “If you knew what I know, you would marry a good man and be done with your childish affection for the dwarf.”

“Are you suggesting that I should I deny my feelings?  Pretend that I feel nothing in my heart for him?  For what purpose: to protect myself from the bitterness of a broken heart?  No, King Thranduil, I am not so cold as to deny the one I love out of fear.”  Sigrid spat angrily, her body shaking with rage.  Her words cut into him like daggers, and he grew quiet.

“I am sorry.  It has been such a long time since I viewed the world with the optimism of youth.  There was a time when I experienced joy in my life; a time I believed I had been forgiven for my ignorant mistakes, and that no further harm could come to me.  But I was wrong.  When she died, there was no comfort for me.  My memories offered me no solace; they only served as reminder of my unending grief.”  Thranduil’s voice wavered and he paused for a moment before continuing.

“I would see you spared from grief; from the deep and all consuming ache that haunts your dreams.  For when you are parted from him, and that day will most certainly come, there shall be void within you that cannot be filled, not even by another’s love.  That is why I would advise you to marry not for love, but for the gain of power and resource; for that is more practical and less likely to bring you pain.”  Thranduil sighed.

“But the love you felt for her, the happiness you shared together; would you wish that away in order to save you from despair?  Those memories erased in favor of an easier life?  Is a life without love truly worth living?”  Sigrid, tears spilling from her eyes, asked delicately.  “I think that it is harder to choose love and surely there will be heartache, but there will also be wonder and blissful days to chase away the terrors from your dreams.  I choose the path of love and I hope one day, love will find you again and that you will choose to embrace it; both the sweet and the bitter.  And when it ends, you will remember not the pain, but the moments shared together in joy.”

“You have a good heart, child.  I hope you do not suffer because of it.”  Thranduil said as he pulled back on Erynion’s reins and the Elven encampment on the edge of the city came into view. 

“I thought you said that hope was a fool’s errand.”  Sigrid chided sweetly as they came to a stop.

Before he could respond, a familiar voice rose from the shadows.

“ _Ada,_ _I did not expect to find that you were still staying here in the city.”_ Legolas emerged from one of the tents.  _“Lord Elrond is headed towards The Woodland Realm in order to deliver a message.”_

_“What sort of message?”_ Thranduil asked still atop Erynion.

_“One from Saruman and Elrond is holding council in your kingdom.”_ Legolas confirmed while he studied his father.  _“You should return home tonight, with me.”_

_“Very well.”_ Thranduil said impassively before turning to Sigrid.  “I have been called away back to The Woodland Realm to attend to some business.  Tell your father,” he paused.  “Tell Bard that I promise that I will return by week’s end.”  He turned towards Legolas again, his thoughts remembering the treasure recovered from the mountain.  “ _Before we leave, I must retrieve something most precious to me from my tent; something I have long desired for you to see.  Come, my son, we have much to discuss.”_   

……


	41. Chapter 41

**Kili and Tauriel**

She giggled as he lovingly tossed her on to the bed they would now share together.  She felt so light, slender and small in his arms, and the sensation was both strange and delightful.  She watched the firelight flicker in his dark eyes; enchanted by the shadows the flames cast as they danced across his face.  The way he looked at her in awe; as if he were seeing her for the very first time, made her fall all the more in love with him and she was thankful for every second they spent together.      

“Does it bother you?”  He asked shyly, taking her by surprise. 

She looked at him in confusion.  “Does what bother me?” 

“That I am shorter than you?”  He said quietly as he winced in embarrassment

“Are you?  I hadn’t noticed.”  She teased playfully.  “Oh!  I have just now realized that you are a dwarf!”  She laughed, trying to ease his discomfort.

“I’m being serious, my love.”  His forehead wrinkled at his distress.

“No, my darling, it does not bother me.”  She reached her hand out to his, inviting him onto the bed beside her.  She propped herself up on her elbow, and gazed lovingly down at him.  “Of all the silly things to worry about Kili!  You are my husband, and I could not be any more proud to be your wife.”  She placed her forehead atop his; allowing her long, thick hair to drape around his shoulders.  He looked up at her with such wonder and amazement, and her eyes reflected his love.

“How could one dwarf be so lucky?”  He whispered before pulling her in for a soft kiss.  “ _Not in dreams could I have imagined loving such a magnificent beauty.”_

He cupped her cheek and kissed her once more; deeper and eager with desire.  His hand moved from her face down towards her neck and his fingers grazed the ornate gold creation he had given her hours earlier.

“Amralime, please…”  He started to say.

“Before you even ask,” she began.  “The answer is yes.”  She knew, after spending many nights already in his bed, he never failed to seek her permission.

“Why would you assume that was what I was going to ask?”  He played hurt; bringing his hand up to his heart.

“Because that is what you always ask me when we are alone in your room.”  She laughed as she stroked the soft curls atop his head.

“I am happy to hear that your answer is yes.  But seeing as you did not allow me to finish, you might want to know what you are agreeing to, my darling.  I was going to ask if you would keep the necklace on,” he said shyly, running his hand through his hair.  “The necklace and nothing else.”  He winked.

“Is that what you want?”  She raised an eyebrow.  “Who am I to deny such a request?”  She sat up on the bed and slowly loosened the laces holding her dress, which slipped lower and lower on her shoulders.  His eyes grew wide, as they always did, when he watched her undress.

Her dress fell around her waist, exposing her breasts and she made no attempt to conceal herself.  She took great pleasure in watching his enjoyment of her body, and she no longer felt ashamed over the scars that littered her skin.  She stood up and pulled the dress down from her hips until it became a pile on the floor.  He smiled that same genuine smile he always gave her, as he beckoned her back onto the bed. 

“I just want to see you.”  He murmured. 

“I want more than that.”  She flirted while biting against her lip.  She slid her hand along the curve of her breast, the fall of her stomach and finally settling in the folds between her legs.  She knew he delighted in watching her pleasure herself and she felt a rush of excitement as she performed for him. 

He watched; unable to look away from the rise and fall of her hips against her hand.  His breathing turned shallow at her first moan, and he swallowed nervously.  She closed her eyes as she settled into a rhythmic motion, one that quickly filled her with warmth.  The touch of his hand on her thigh jolted her forward; and her eyes fluttered open, once again finding his gaze.  His thick fingers stroked delicately over her sensitive, pale skin and she shuddered against the sensation.  He spread her leg open, allowing him an unimpeded view of her body as he continued to watch.  His eyes, wild and intense, held her gaze as he slowly positioned himself between her thighs.  He closed his eyes as his tongue lapped gently against her opening; a sudden heat raced though her and she struggled to catch her breath.  She tried to withdraw her fingers, but her grasped them and pulled them back as he wanted to continue to watch.  Ecstasy was coming quickly now as his tongue sank deeper into her; gliding easily inside and out in frenzied rhythm until she could no longer contain the wave of passion that crested over her.  She pulled her hand away and sank her fingers into his hair as she her hips rose against his mouth.  A frantic moan escaped her lips as she cried out in blissful agony.

Only after he knew she was spent did he lift his head and lick his lips.  “I love the way you taste.”  He panted with desire.

“Please,” she begged.  “I want you.”  She fumbled desperately to remove his clothes.

“Patience, amralime.”  He grinned as he lightly ran his fingers down her stomach.  “We have all night.”  He continued to dance his fingers along the curves of her body, swirling and teasing her skin.  He placed soft kisses on her scars; each kiss tickled lightly and caused her back to arch once more.

She turned onto her side and relaxed while he ran his fingertips along her back, planting more gentle kisses until he reached her neck.  He sucked carefully on the delicate flesh; pulling her hair lightly while cupping her breast.  She moaned again and her body offered no resistance to his movements.  His teeth sank slightly into her skin and she gasped as heat raged within her once more.

“Enough!”  She cried as she whipped around to face him.  She nearly ripped his tunic off in her desperation to feel his warmth.

“Careful woman!”  He laughed as he tried to untangle one of his braids from his shirt.  “You just about took off my head.”

“We do things my way now, husband.”  She growled while ripping the laces from his trousers.  “Now, lie down .” 

She pushed him down and kissed him hard, biting at his lower lip before moving to his neck.  She drew her tongue and dragged it down his chest until she reached his hip bone, where she nuzzled her nose against his inner thigh.  She licked cautiously, eliciting a shudder from him.

“What are you doing… _oh Mahal.”_ He cried aloud.

His swollen manhood throbbed as she traced her fingertip against the engorged vein until she reached the thick, wiry curls of black hair.  She licked her lips before she took him into her mouth, tracing her tongue along his shaft; pulling him deeper down her throat until she could no longer breathe and her eyes filled with tears.  Kili released a deep moan and she watched as his toes curled over in delight.  She pulled her head up before moving down again, leaving him slick and gasping for breath.

“Tauriel,” his voice cracking.  “I need you.”  His strong arms pulled her on top of him, her long legs straddled around him as he entered her; frantically lifting his hips until he was deep inside of her.  She moaned lowly while she pushed her body against his as they settled into their familiar rhythm.  His hands cupped her breasts, his fingers running over her pointed nipples before he pulled one of them into his mouth, suckling eagerly on the tender skin until she could stand no more.

In one quick motion, he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her into the air before placing her on her back and he climbed on top of her; her necklace falling heavily against her skin.   He smiled and brushed his nose against hers while he thrust slowly into her until her filled her completely.

“Too deep, my love?”  Kili asked softly, to which she smiled and shook her head no.

 He moved faster now, and he could feel a glorious tension building inside of him and knew that release was coming soon.  He kept his eyes locked with hers as she began to tense with anticipation of climax. 

“Wait!”  She begged as she wrapped her legs around him, holding him in place tightly while the wave of ecstasy flooded her.  The sight of her pleasure overcame him, and he released deep inside of her.  Spent, he collapsed beside her on the bed. She curled beside him and rested her head upon his shoulder.  He pulled her tighter to him with a squeeze and kissed her on the top of her head.

“You are amazing, my darling love, and I cannot believe that you are mine.”  Kili purred as he once again hugged her tightly.

“And I always will be.  You have my heart, Kili.”  Tauriel said as she lifted her head from his shoulder and kissed him sweetly on the lips.

“Can I ask you something?”  He hesitated before continuing.  “Amralime, where did you learn how to do that?”  He asked finally while he traced along her scars.

“Hatharal gave me some advice about the art of pleasure.  Did you like it?”  She giggled while running her fingers through the thick hair on his chest.

“More than words can say.”  He coughed.  ‘Would you mind terribly if I asked you to do it again sometime?”  He asked coyly.

“Is now a good time?”  She teased while reaching for him once more.

“Oh Amralime, you must give me a moment!”  He laughed heartily.  “You have no patience.”  He sighed as he stroked her cheek. 

“When it comes to you, I have none.”  She cooed as her hair trailed down his body.  “And besides, I could use the practice.”         


	42. Chapter 42

Nain lounged about his private chamber, quietly enjoying how his carefully laid plans were slowly beginning to come together.  Tonight would be his wedding; while many considered the impending nuptials to be rushed, he considered the carefully timed engagement to be the beginning of things to come.

“Thorin has departed for the coronation.  He knows that he needs Dale as an ally.”  Hannir said as he made his way to the table.

Nain laughed knowingly to himself.  “Alliances have a way of crumbling when the seeds of mistrust are sowed.”

“What about the elves?  They are still in their encampment and Thranduil has recently returned to Dale.”  Hannir asked with concern.

“Then we give them cause to leave.  There’s no reason why they should be left out of the festivities.”  Nain sat back in his seat confidently.  “Bildr,” he gestured to the dwarf sitting across from him.  “I give you the task of dealing with the elves.”  To which Bildr grinned approvingly.  “Very good, the plan is set then.”    

“My lord,” Nyr said hesitantly.  “Are you certain you want the plan carried out this evening?”

“Yes.  It must be this evening.”  Nain smirked defiantly. 

“It is your wedding night, and..” Nyr began

“And you believe that tonight is somehow sacred to me?  That I hold this marriage to be more important than our intentions?  No, my friend, the time is now and I will not miss my opportunity on account of some romantic delusion.”  Nain chided to the elder dwarf. 

A sudden knock at the door interrupted their conversation. “As you wish, my lord.”  Nyr placated quietly while he attended to the visitor.

_Tonight will no doubt be an evening to remember._ Nain laughed to himself.

“Nain, Grundin is here at your request.”  Nyr introduced the pleasant faced-dwarf standing in the threshold.

“Thank you.  My friends, I would like to speak to my new father-in-law privately, if you do not mind.”  Nain said with geniality.   “Please, come in.  We have much to discuss.”

Grundin embraced Nain warmly and patted him affectionately on the back before he began excitedly pacing the room.  “It fills me with such happiness that you and my daughter are to be married this evening!  Such a blessing that you two have found each other.”  Grundin exclaimed with arms outstretched.

“I know that Grenda and I will enjoy our life together.”  Nain tried his best to appear cordial.

“My lad, this is truly a joyous day!  One I thought I’d not live to see.”  Grundin said as he helped himself to the wine set out on the table.  “A toast to you and my daughter!”

“She comes from good stock, and a union between Erebor and the dwarves of Moria will only help solidify our relationship.”  Nain said charmingly.  ‘Surely your kin will be pleased with this marriage.”

“Of course!  All will rejoice and be glad.”  Grundin continued to drink from his glass.

“And should a day ever come where I need assistance, certainly you would rally your kin to my aid.”  Nain speculated while studying Grundin’s reaction.

“Naturally,” the kindly dwarf replied without any hint of concern.  “After tonight, we are family and family will always be there for each other.”

“Good.  Very good.”  Nain smiled as he raised his glass to Grundin’s.  “To the scattered dwarves of Moria; my new kin.” He toasted wryly.  “But now, I must ready myself to meet my bride.  I thank you for your support and for giving me your daughter.”

“My lad, this is the start of something wonderful!  I just know it.”  Grundin said merrily as he shook Nain’s hands vigorously.

“You are correct.  Tonight is the start of something remarkable.”  Nain sneered to the oblivious elder dwarf.  “In fact, I cannot do this without you and your support; truly we are allies in this.”

“Allies and family until the end!”  Grundin said merrily.

_You have no idea what is in store, old one._

**The Coronation**

“And now comes the day when the City of Dale rises once more; I bestow upon you, Bard the Dragonslayer, the title of King of Dale; Ruler of Northern Rhovanion.  Long live the King.”  Gandalf the Grey said proudly as he placed a crown atop Bard’s head.

“Long live the king!”  The collective called out in unison as they cheered and hailed their new ruler.

“Citizens of Dale, this day belongs to all of us.  We have done what others deemed impossible.  Together, we shall see the glory of this once mighty city renewed; together we will raise our families in prosperity and community!  Today, we honor those we lost to the fire and we celebrate the days ahead.  I pledge to you, my good people, to do right by all and to serve and defend Dale until my dying day.”  Bard said passionately.

Bard made his way through the assembly of onlookers slowly; women dressed in their finery lay flowers at his feet while they smiled and batted their eyes.   He was quickly inundated with well-wishers who were eager to greet their new king.  _Such fanfare._   He thought to himself as he was embarrassed by all the attention he had been receiving.

A horn sounded and the crowd quickly made way for the assembly of elves that marched towards him.  The elven guard parted to reveal King Thranduil.  He was dressed in pale green silks with sparkling white gems glittering in his circlet; his long silver hair cascaded down around his shoulders.  Thranduil’s pale blue eyes locked with his own, and he smiled with genuine delight. 

“The crown suits you well, _my dear friend.”_ Thranduil bowed elegantly before him.

“You do not have to bow to me.”  Bard blushed.  “I am pleased to see you again.  Will you be staying for the evening feast?” 

“Naturally.”  Thranduil said as he raised his eyebrow.

He scarcely had the chance to respond before he was once more ushered through the crowd as his guards lead him into the Throne Room.  Bard took in a deep breath before sitting upon the ornate chair crafted for him.  The assembly once more cheered for him and he desperately wished he could sneak away to the retreat of his garden.  He glanced at Sigrid and Tilda, who were seated to his left, and smiled and winked.  Bain, who was sitting to his right, looked as uncomfortable as he with all the attention.

 “Are you alright, son?”  Bard asked.

“I feel ridiculous.”  Bain grumbled under his breath.

“I know the feeling.  Let’s just get through tonight.”  Bard offered his son an understanding smile before turning once more to the galley.

“My King, are you ready to greet your guests?”  Alfrid asked, to which he nodded.  He groaned as he prepared to officially welcome all the important dignitaries who had arrived for the coronation.

“Presenting to his highness, the son of Lord Turgon, Steward of Gondor, Lord Ecthelion.”  A herald called out.

A man older than he stepped before him; Ecthelion was a tall and brooding figure with graying hair and deep lines of worry etched upon his face.    

“Good King Bard,” the stoic man began.  “I regret to inform you that my father, Lord Turgeon, the Steward of Gondor, was unable to make the long journey due to his advanced age.  I have come in his stead.”  Ecthelion said as he bowed.  “Long ago, an alliance existed between the Kingdoms of Men; I hope that such tradition will continue through our lives.” 

“On behalf of my people, I welcome you to the City of Dale, Lord and son of Steward Turgon.  I also hope for a lasting alliance with Gondor.  Thank you for taking the long and perilous journey.”  Bard said with reservation. 

“I look forward to speaking with you privately.”  The man’s forehead furrowed as he spoke and Bard felt his jaw tightened as he caught Ecthelion looking at his daughter.  

“Presenting to his highness, King Thorin of Erebor, Prince Fili and Prince Kili of Erebor.”  The herald announced.

“King Bard.” Thorin’s deep voice thundered. 

“A fond welcome to you and your kin, King Thorin.”  Bard sighed with relief as he greeted Thorin and his nephews.

“Welcome to Dale, King Thorin and the Princes of Erebor.”  Sigrid said as she rose to stand beside her father. 

“Such a joyous day for us all, Princess Sigrid.”  Fili bowed reservedly; all the while his eyes fixed with Sigrid’s.

“I’m afraid we must bid you farewell.  My kin is to be married this eve and we cannot stay.”  Thorin growled.

“We are sorry to see you go.”  Bard said sadly as he squeezed his daughter’s hand. 

“May our alliance remain strong during your reign.”  The Dwarf King said as he prostrated before him.  “A gift to the new king; we present to you this sword forged by dwarven hands.  You’ll find no sharper, truer blade.” 

“I thank you for your gift.”  Bard said as he lifted the massive sword into the air.  “It is magnificent.  You and your kin are always welcome here.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.  Farewell.”  Fili said sadly.

Bard watched them leave and knew that his daughter was disappointed in their early departure.  He knew her affections and despite their obvious differences, he believed them to be a well suited match. 

He continued to greet those who had arrived to celebrate his coronation; all the while knowing that behind every smile of each well-wisher lay a hidden agenda.  _They want something from me.  That is why they are here._   He thought to himself as the evening wore on.

“King Bard,” Ecthelion said after the feast.  “Might I have a moment of your time?”

“Yes,” Bard said wearily.  “Come, we can talk in my private meeting room.”  The man followed him into a smaller room that overlooked the city.  “Lord Ecthelion, what is it that you wish to discuss?” 

“I imagine you are already aware of my intentions.  I seek a union between Dale and Gondor through marriage.”  The elder man said while circling the large table in the center of the room.

“You intend to marry your son to my daughter.”  Bard paused as he thought of Sigrid.

“Not to my son, for he is a mere lad.  I am the one seeking to marry your daughter.”  Lord Ecthelion said unceremoniously. 

“You?”  Bard could not contain his surprise.  “But you are…”

“Much older than you expected?”  Lord Ecthelion laughed heartily.  “While I admit I have seen my share of winters, but I am still young enough to be a proper husband.  My wife passed some years ago, and I am ready to take another bride.”

“Forgive me, but this is an unexpected development.  I mean you no disrespect, but how can I wed my daughter to a man who is older than even myself.”  Bard shook his head.

“This is hardly uncommon, my King.  Why, my own mother was many years younger than my father and they had an amicable marriage until her death.  Your daughter would be well cared for and I will treat her with kindness.  She will have the protection of Gondor, as will you should the need ever arise.”  Lord Ecthelion argued.  “Any children produced from our marriage would be next in line to be steward, after my son of course, but they would have a claim upon Gondor none the less.”

“I do not know if I can give you an answer.  I would need to discuss this with Sigrid.”  Bard said as he ran his hand through his hair.

“Forgive me, King Bard, but I do not understand your reservation.  While I am older, I am not so old where I cannot perform husbandly duties.”  Lord Ecthelion argued.  “Besides, the kingdoms of men must be united in an unbreakable alliance!”

“Dale has an alliance between The Woodland Realm and Erebor, our closest neighbors; we are well defended.”  Bard countered.

“Tell me, what would happen should the dwarves choose to break your alliance?  They are well versed in combat and, forgive me, would best your army of fishermen easily.  Should they wish to take the city, who would you count on to come to your defense?  King Thranduil?  He has already proven that he cannot be trusted to keep his word.  Where was he when the dragon destroyed Dale?”  Lord Ecthelion began.  Bard felt his fists clenching at the mention of Thranduil.

“I am sorry, King Bard, but when it comes right down to it, elves and dwarves will only protect their own kinds.  Men must stand with men, and our strength combined can certainly defeat any foe.” 

“I understand what you are saying, but I am only thinking of Sigrid.”  Bard said defiantly. 

“I give you my word that I will treat her well and that no hard will come to her.  Gondor is a glorious city, and I am certain Sigrid will come to love both the landscape and people as much as I.”  The elder man’s face softened as he spoke of the city. 

“She has never been without her family.”  Bard accidently said aloud.

“But she will not be alone.  She can bring her handmaids and I am certain my son will warm to her.  Speaking of my son, I understand that you have a daughter about the same age; perhaps we could discuss a betrothal between our children.  This would mean Sigrid would have her sister with her in a few years, and they would be able to raise their children together.  If we could all be so fortunate!”  Lord Ecthelion smiled warmly to the weary king.  “I can give them both a good life.  On my honor, I swear to it.”   

“That is something to consider,” Bard sighed.  “You are indeed a good man, and I have no doubt that my daughter would be treated well.  But all of this is new to me.  I will speak with Sigrid before I give you my answer.”

“I understand a father’s love.”  Lord Ecthelion said as he clasped Bard’s hand.  “Thank you for your time and for your consideration.  I trust you will make the best decision for you and your kingdom.  We part as friends, good King Bard.”

Bard slumped against the wall as he sank onto the floor.  _He wants not only Sigrid, but Tilda as well._ A deep sadness settled in his heart.  _There is no way I am sending my daughters off to Gondor._

  _I just need a quiet moment to myself,_ he thought as he made his way out into the garden.  The once lively plants had all but retreated and wilted in the cold; leaving the pillars barren and the ground littered with dead leaves that were swirling in the fierce wind.  He sank down on the bench and pulled his crown from his head and held it in his hands. 

“Do you not care for it?”  A familiar voice spoke to him, and he whipped around to see King Thranduil standing under an archway.

“It is not the crown I find fault in, it’s the wearer.”  Bard sighed heavily.

“I see no fault in either.”  Thranduil said plainly.

“I do not know if I can do this.  I already have undesirable marriage proposals for my daughters.  I have a tenuous alliance with Thorin, but who knows how long that will last.  Not to mention I have an entire city to worry about.”  Bard said as he shook his head.  “Honestly, all of this is exhausting.”

Thranduil glided towards him before taking the crown from the bargeman’s hands.  “Such a thing of beauty.”  Thranduil whispered as he marveled once more at the magnificent golden treasure.  He brushed the graying brown curls from Bard’s face and with great care, placed the creation upon the new king’s head.  “I can tell you what I know: you are a good man and a strong and fearless leader.  The people are fortunate to have you among them.”  Thranduil took his hand and helped him to his feet.  “You are exactly what this city needs.”

“How can you be so certain?”  Bard said doubtfully.

“These people trust you.  They wanted you to lead them and you have done so with humility.  Are you saying that these citizens were wrong to put their faith in you?”  Thranduil lifted one of his glorious eyebrows in question.

“When you put it that way,” Bard shrugged before laughing.  “But even you have to admit; King Bard sounds terrible if you ask me.” 

“I do not think so.  You have many admirers who would claim otherwise.  If I am not mistaken, you had quite the mob of adorning ladies swarming you; such a bevy of lovely faces.”  Thranduil’s eyes darted to the ground. 

“There is only one face I saw tonight.”  Bard said softly as he gazed into the Elven King’s eyes.   

“I am nothing more than illusion; a beautiful deceit crafted by my own doing.  If you saw what lies just beneath, you would not feel the way you do now.”  Thranduil’s eyes bore a pain Bard had not seen in many months, not since that first night after the battle for Erebor.

“How can you say such things?  You speak as if my feelings are nothing more than superficial desires.  You afford me no opportunity to truly know you, yet you have already decided for yourself how I will behave.”  Bard pleaded.

“I am sorry, but I have come to tell you that I will be leaving for The Woodland Realm in the morning.  Too long have I delayed my duties.”  Thranduil said coldly. 

“So you are just going to leave again?”  Bard’s voice raised in frustration.

“I must.  It is for the best.”  Thranduil turned away, unable to face the bargeman any longer.

“For the best?  Perhaps you are right; I do not understand you.”  Bard hissed.  He walked hastily towards a large pillar; the wind whipped at his hair and the bitter cold stung his face.  After a moment, he turned around to face Thranduil, only to find that he was gone; he had slipped away into the night.  “Thranduil?”  He called into the dark.  “Please don’t go.”  He said quietly to himself.  Alone in the darkness, he leaned against the pillar and allowed the wind to carry the tears from his eyes. 

 “King Bard?”  A voice from the shadow called cautiously to him.  Nremyn and Hatharal emerged together and slowly walked towards him.

“Forgive me, but I wish to be alone.”  Bard coughed to disguise the distress in his voice.

“You must understand something about King Thranduil.”  Hatharal said hesitantly.

“He has suffered much in his life.”  Nremyn said quietly.

“Too much.”  Hatharal sighed as he shook his head.  “We should not be telling you this, and perhaps we have no right to do so, but it is only out of love that we come to you.  Our king has had to endure many terrible events in his life.”

“The loss of his father and the tragic death of his beloved wife.”  Nremyn said sadly.

“But it was the dragons that changed him, scarring him forever in more ways than one.”  Hatharal explained. 

“The dragons?  What dragons?”  Bard asked with confusion; his mind racing with questions.

“The Serpents of the North.  He faced them thousands of years ago.  Nremyn and I were there.”  Hatharal began and Nremyn nodded.  “The dragons were mighty, and as you already know, very difficult to inflict injury, much less kill.  So many elves died trying to vanquish the beasts.”

“The fighting left many of us separated and without a way to escape the flames.  I thought for certain I would die.”  Nremyn’s eyes grew serious.

“But then Thranduil, alone and armed only with his sword, charged at one of the dragons and with all his strength, he stabbed the beast.   He killed it, but at a terrible cost.”  Hatharal pursed his lips together, unsure how to proceed. 

“King Thranduil was… gravely injured.”  Nremyn began.  “He has not been the same since.” 

Bard felt his head beginning to spin; suddenly, he remembered what Thranduil had said to him, all those months ago after the Battle for Erebor: _“You’ve not hurt me.  The pain is from an ancient wound._   _I haven’t the heart to show it to you.”_   Bard struggled to understand why Thranduil would keep such a thing secret from him.  _I have scars too, why would he hide them from me?_

Hatharal looked to Nremyn, who put his hand reassuringly on Bard’s shoulder.

“Why…why wouldn’t he tell me about this?”  Bard said finally.

“I imagine he is afraid of losing you.  He cares deeply for you.”  Nremyn smiled as he gave Bard’s arm a squeeze. 

“You think he cares for me?  He is leaving tomorrow and wants nothing to do with me.”  Bard sneered angrily.  “I’m sorry,” he sighed apologetically.  “What makes you think he cares for me?” 

“Because of what you wear atop your head.”  Hatharal said without hesitation.

Bard reached for his crown and pulled it down in front of him.  “I…I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

 “We have seen this crown before; its twin lies within the halls of The Woodland Realm.  Like yours, it was given as a gift to mark a very special event.”  Hatharal explained.

“On the day of their wedding, Lady Elarinya presented her husband with a magnificent crown that she designed by her own hand.  A crown that was given as a symbol of their love.”  Nremyn continued.

“The crown you now wear,” Hatharal whispered as he took the golden adornment from Bard’s hands.  “Is the same as the one King Thranduil wore when he married Lady Elarinya.”

“King Thranduil had the dwarves create it for you.  It is no accident that he chose this design.  We suspected that he had a fondness for you long before, but seeing this,” Nremyn gestured to Bard’s head.  “We knew.”

Both elves stepped back from him, and he felt as if his heart would burst with joy.  “Thank you,” he sputtered.  “Thank you for telling me all of this.”  His head was still spinning, and he could hardly find the words to say.  _Could it be true?  Why would he not tell me?_

“But he is leaving.  He is returning to Mirkwood.”  Bard stammered.

“He has not left yet.”  Nremyn smiled.  “Good bye, _mellon.”_ The elves bowed gracefully before leaving him once again alone with his thoughts.   

“Forgive me, my King, but your guests are asking for you.”  Alfrid’s voice interrupted his silence.

“I really do not want to entertain right now, Alfrid.”  Bard grit his teeth.

“I understand, my King, but there are several men who would like an audience with you.  But I would be happy to tell them you are otherwise engaged.”  Alfrid placated. 

Bard rubbed his temple with his hand.  “No, I will see them.” 

“Very well, my King.  Oh, before I forget to tell you.  The dwarves left a barrel of their finest wine as a gift.  I took the liberty of having the kitchen pour you a glass.  Here, my King, this should help you relax your nerves.” 

Bard begrudgingly accepted the wine and took a few modest sips to appease the greasy man still standing in the doorway.  “It’s good.  Thank you.”

“Come now, my King, you should at least make one last appearance.”  Alfrid grinned.

Bard could hear roars of laughter, merriment and cheer coming from the dining room, and knew that the citizens of Dale were celebrating the completion of their city.  _Soon we will celebrate the harvest._   He thought as he took pleasure in their happiness.  As he entered the room, he felt as if he were floating; his eyes struggled to focus.  He felt so very tired.

“Are you alright, my King?”  Alfrid’s voice reached his ears, but he could scarcely make out what he was saying.

“I…I need to lie down.”  Bard heard his own voice as it echoed through him.

“Let’s get you to bed.”  Alfrid sounded different.  Bard’s legs buckled under him, and he felt his body fall against the wall.  “That wine really hit you hard.”  Alfrid laughed. 

_The wine….stay awake…get my children to safety…stay awake…Thranduil, don’t go…stay….awake…_  

…….

“Da!  Da, please wake up!”  Sigrid called to him through a dream.

“Father please!  You need to get up!”  Bain’s voice drifted in the distance.  He felt hands upon him; violently shaking him in desperation.

_What is wrong?_ He wanted to ask, but he could not form the words.  _Why can I not wake?_

“Da!  Please you must wake up!  The fields!  They are on fire!”  Sigrid screams were growing louder. 

“The elven encampment is engulfed in flames too!  Father!”  Bain’s pleas resonated in his mind, and he could hear no other sound… _Fire. Elves…Thranduil.  Thranduil is in danger.  Get up now!_   


	43. Chapter 43

**The Fire**

Kili awoke to the sounds of screaming coming from deep within Erebor.  Ever keen of hearing, he bolted up in bed and instinctively reached for Tauriel beside him, only to find that she was already awake.

“Do you hear that?”  He asked nervously.

She was silent for a moment when a scream from deep in the caverns broke the silence.   Her eyes grew wide with terror.  “What is happening Kili?”

“I do not know.  Stay here.”  He whispered quietly.

“I will not stay here!  What if we are under attack?”  Her eyes darted to her long bow, hanging on a hook on the wall. 

“Grab your daggers just in case and please, stay close to me.”  Kili said as he pulled on his trousers.  Cautiously, he opened the door and was immediately struck by the smell of smoke that was now filling the hallways.

“There’s a fire!”  He turned to her and shouted.  “We need to get everyone out.” 

“Go and rouse Fili, I’ll see to Dis.  I will meet you outside.”  She called as she ran down the hall towards the elder dwarf woman’s chamber.

“Be safe, my love.”  Kili yelled before he began banging upon the doors in effort to wake the sleeping occupants.

He raced towards Fili’s room and hurled himself against the heavy door.  “Fee!  Get up!    There’s a fire!”  Kili cried as he frantically shook his brother awake.

“Fire?”  Fili asked bewilderedly while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“I heard screaming, and then I smelled the smoke.  Come on, we need to wake Thorin and the others!”  Kili cried.  The pair were soon racing through the Great Hall towards the Chamber of the King, only to find that Thorin was already aware and heading for the stairs.

“Uncle!  We need to get you out!”  Kili yelled amid the panic.

“I’m not abandoning Erebor to flames again!”  He roared in anger.  “Not again.”

“Then we are coming with you.”  Fili nodded silently to his brother as they made their way deeper into the caverns.   The air was heavy with smoke and the heat burned his eyes.  They nearly crashed into a dwarf as they rounded a corner.

“My King!  The grain room is engulfed in flames.  The way to the forges is completely blocked, I tried to get through to open the spillway, but it’s impassable.”  The dwarf yelled as he patted at his smoldering sleeve.  “I am sorry.”

“You did enough, now get yourself to safety.”  Thorin urged.  “The forges are not the only spillway in the kingdom.  We need to open the dam that leads to the river and flood the lower levels!  That’s the only way we can contain the spread of the fire.”  Thorin called to them.  The thick plumes filled the corridor, and Kili could hardly see where his Uncle stood.  “But it will not be easy.”

“Fee and I will do it!”  Kili said as he choked on the thick, black smoke.  The princes ran off before Thorin could respond, both struggling to breathe.

“This way.”  Fili yelled through coughing fits. 

Kili could no longer see, and relied upon the hard walls to keep him on course.  His lungs burned with each breath and his thoughts grew cloudy.

“Through here!”  Fili cried as he grabbed his brother’s arm, pulling him towards a large door.  “We need to release several sets of levers at the same time.  You take that side, and we pull on my count.”

“If we open the dam, what is to stop the water from flooding Erebor completely?”  Kili wheezed.

“It won’t!”  Fili answered.  “There are canals inside the kingdom that will direct the water out.  Are you ready?  On three!  One, two…three.”

The brothers sank their weight down the massive stone levers created to keep the river water from entering.  The door gave way, revealing a second door as means of a safeguard.

“Again!  One, two, three!”  Kili grit his teeth as he leant all his might against the much larger stone lever; the swollen river coursed just on the other side of the dam and its might pushed back against his efforts. 

“Kili!  Fili!”  A voice called out to them from the room, and soon Thorin and Dwalin came running in to help.  Thorin raced beside him and together they heaved down upon the great levers, and slowly, the gate began to rise.  Water spilled around their feet, but none refused to relent against the power of the river.

Thorin roared in defiance as the dam opened and water burst through the room.  Kili took a deep breath before he was engulfed by the raging flood.  The swell of water knocked him over; he tumbled head over feet as the power of the current carried him from the room and through the halls; slamming his body against the stone walls along the way.    

He opened his eyes, only to be disoriented by the darkness that surrounded him.   He kicked his legs and thrashed his arms in effort to keep from drowning.  His muscles ached and his breath was nearly spent.  Desperation gripped him as he fought towards the surface.  Hands from above reached in and pulled him onto a platform.  Voice yelled around him as he was turned over on his stomach.  He retched; murky brown fluid poured from his throat and he gasped to breathe air.

“That’s a good lad.”  Balin’s voice soothed to him.  “Keep your head down and breathe in through your mouth.”

“Fi..Fili!”  He cried as he retched once more. 

“He’s there, see?”  He turned his head, and he glimpsed blonde hair hanging over the edge of the platform.  He felt a great relief as he watched his brother’s back rise and fall with life.

“Thorin?  Dwalin?”  His voice hoarse and breaking.

“Alive.”  Balin sighed while he patted his back. 

“Tauriel?”  He coughed and his hands trembled.

“Safe.  She and Dis were leading our people outside; they saved many lives.”  Balin said proudly.  “Easy, lad.  Rest now.”

“Does anyone know how the fire began?”  Thorin asked as Dori helped him to his feet.

“I do not know.  The grain room is completely gone, and with it, our supply of food for the winter.”  Nori spat angrily.  “How could I not have seen this coming?”

“You think this was done deliberately?”  Fili winced as he rubbed at his back.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.  _Fire.  Fire once again in Erebor. But why and how?_

Dwalin walked towards them, drawing a dagger from his boot.  “I’ll kill the one responsible for this.” 

“We don’t know anything for certain yet.”  Balin shook his head.  “This could have been an unfortunate accident.”

A cry from above echoed through the cavern; “Thorin!”  Dain Ironfoot screamed.  “A second fire in Dale!  The fields are burning!”

Kili immediately looked at his brother, who wore the same expression of horror as he. 

“We are under attack.”  Thorin said quietly.  “Dwalin, gather The Company.  Fili, find our kin.  We must call a council immediately.” 

 

**The Durin Council**

“Erebor was attacked this evening, as was Dale.  We know the fires were intentionally set in order to destroy our food supply.  I take this as a sign of war.”  Thorin growled.  “Nori, what have you learned about potential traitors?”

“Nothing,” Nori stared down at the table as he spoke.  “My King, I heard nothing.  I should have tried harder.  This is all my fault.”

“This did not happen because of you.  It is as I feared; our enemies are operating in the shadows.”  Thorin glanced at Dis.

“Are we certain that dwarves did this?”  Fili asked skeptically.

“The gates were sealed, no one in and no one out.”  Dori said cautiously.  “Both Ori and myself can attest to that fact.”  Ori silently nodded in agreement.  “With Nain’s wedding, we were all on high alert.”

“Then how could both cities suffer attacks?  Certainly someone would have noticed a dwarf running back towards Erebor.”  Gloin said as he tapped his fingers on the table. 

“It was chaotic outside with dwarves running in and out of the gates trying to save loved ones.”  Dis glanced to Tauriel as she spoke. 

“That is true, we were so focused on getting everyone out.  Anyone could have easily slipped into the crowd unseen.”  Tauriel said.

“So now what do we do?  Our food supply is gone, as are the wheat fields in Dale.  We are under attack from an unseen enemy who has yet to be revealed and winter is upon us.”  Balin said as he pulled at his beard.

“We will continue the hunting parties.”  Fili nodded to Kili.  “Our alliance with Dale will help get us through the winter.”

“No.  We must rely upon those we can trust.  I know each and every one of you in this room is loyal, and that is who I put my trust in.”  Thorin said stoically.  “We will get through this together.”

“But there are so few of us, and who knows how many dwarves are part of the uprising.  How are we to know friend from foe?”  Kili asked and the room grew unsettled.

“Quiet!”  Thorin yelled.  “We need to rally the other dwarf kingdoms.  Bofur, you are kin to the dwarves of Moria.  Will they come to our aid?”

“I am certain they will.  Bombur and I will depart in the morning.”  Bofur said enthusiastically.

“That is all well and good lads, but why would they make the journey on your word?  It should one of the Durin line be the one to deliver the message?”  Dain Ironfoot asked as he began to stand up.  “It would be my honor to do this for you, cousin.”

“No Uncle, you cannot go.  You are needed here to rally the dwarves from the Ironhills; they will not listen to anyone but you.”  Nain protested.  “With difficult times ahead of us, they might take it upon themselves to flee for home.”

“Then I will go.”  Fili offered; to which Thorin shook his head in disagreement.

“You are the crowned Prince of Erebor, we cannot risk losing you in a dangerous mission on the road.  And Kili, I mean no disrespect, but as you just recently married an elf, I do not think the dwarf families of Moria will pay you any mind.  Dis, as the matriarch of the Durin line, you are much too important and need to be where you can be protected.”  Nain continued to the assembly.  “I must be the one to go.”  He said quietly.

“Husband, no!”  Grenda pleaded; gripping Nain’s arm tightly.   

“I am sorry my love, but seeing how your father is head of one of the oldest and most upstanding dwarven families from Moria, and we are now married; this task falls to me.  Because we are now family, they will not be able to offer any resistance to me.”

“Then I am coming with you.  I am your wife, and I belong with you.”  Grenda said as she entwined her fingers with his.

“Absolutely not, my love.”  Nain barked.  “This is much too dangerous and I cannot risk your safety.  You will be safe here with Uncle and Ionè looking after you.”

“I agree.”  Thorin nodded.  “But I will not send you alone.  Bofur, Bombur, you will accompany him.”

“Take my father along too.”  Grenda said as she gripped Nain’s hand.

“Very well.”  Thorin relented.  “For now, we must be extra cautious, for we do not know who we can trust.  We must consider the possibility that anyone outside of this room is our enemy.  Dwalin, you are to keep guard over my sister at all times.  Gloin and Oin, you watch over Ionè and Grenda.  I trust you are more than capable of handling yourself, Tauriel, but do not go anywhere alone.  We must look after each other, for foe can be disguised as friend.”

Thorin dismissed the assembly and held back Bofur and Bombur.  “Keep Nain safe; look after him and do not let him out of your sight.”

“On my honor, Thorin.  We swear to it.”  Bofur gave his chest a thud and Bombur did the same. 

Thorin turned to see Dis still sitting at the table.  “Do you object to having a chaperone, sister?” 

“That is not what needs to be discussed.”  Dis said coolly.

“I know what you’re going to say and the answer is no.”  Thorin growled. 

“Can you not see how dire the situation has become?  Are you so stubborn that you would let all of Erebor burn?”  Dis spat angrily.  “Thorin, even if the dwarves of Moria come to our aid, they will not do so out of loyalty; they will expect a marriage to one of their own.  You know what I say is the truth.  You cannot avoid the issue any longer.”

“I swore and oath!  On our brother’s tomb, I swore an oath.  Would you have me go back on my word?”  Thorin thundered.

Dis sat silently for a moment.  “Those promises were made during a different time.  We had no home, no hope of recovering our home and no hope for the future.  But times have changed, and because of you, we have our home back and now we must think only of the future.  You would not be dishonoring Frerin by taking a wife.  You would be honoring what he fought and died for; our legacy and our home.”

“And what of Bilbo?”  Thorin sighed heavily. 

“That is your decision.  But the longer he remains in Erebor, the more danger he is in.  I have grown fond of him too, and I do not wish to see him come to harm.  Please brother, consider my words.”  Dis rested her hand upon Thorin’s shoulder before exiting the room.  Thorin sat alone in quiet contemplation.  _I know what I must do._   He sighed heavily.  _But I am disinclined to do it._

  

**Thorin**

“You sent for me?”  Bilbo, clearly out of breath, asked as he burst into the room.

“Yes.  Come in.”  He said wearily, reluctant to proceed.  “I think it is time we discussed your return to The Shire.”

“I have been giving that a great deal of thought, and I’ve decided that I wish to stay.  Especially after what happened tonight.”  The hobbit began.

“I have already decided.  You will be returning in the morning.”  His voice lacked emotion.

“You…you want me to leave?”  Bilbo asked, quite bewildered.  “We are under attack and you want me to just walk away?”

“It is the right decision.”  He growled.

“Is this what you want?”  Bilbo took a step back; his face contorted with confusion.

“What I want is for you to be safe.  It’s clear Erebor is no longer safe, and I fear you will be hurt if you remain.”

“You want to keep me safe?”  Bilbo snorted.  “You forget, Thorin, that I faced stone giants, trolls, goblins, orcs- I faced a damned dragon for you!  I did it all for you.  You really believe that I’d leave your side now, when you are in danger?”

“I am thankful for your past service.”  His brow furrowed.  “But I must insist on your departure.”

“My service?”  Bilbo snarled.  “My service!  Is that what you call this?  Service?” 

“My kingdom has been attacked- most likely by dwarves, and I cannot ignore the fact that my actions have caused this uprising.”  He yelled in frustration.

“You mean your actions regarding me.  Is that what you’re trying to say?”  Bilbo’s eyes flashed angrily.

“What would you have me do?”  He cried as he pushed over a chair.  “You knew this could not last forever.  I am sorry, but I am the King and it is time I did what is expected of me.”

“That sounds like your sister talking.”  Bilbo grumbled.  “You speak as if I have no say in the matter.  What about what I want?”

“There is nothing more to say.  You leave tomorrow at dawn.  It has been decided.” He said coldly.

“So that is it then?  Do me one last honor and look at me.  Look me in the eyes and tell me that you want me to go, because otherwise, I will not and I cannot believe that you want this.” Bilbo, his chest heaving from the outburst, pleaded.  “Look at me Thorin!”  He shouted as tears streamed down his face.

“I am trying to keep you from harm.”  He rubbed his hand against his forehead.

“That is not an answer.  Do you want me to go?  Then I need to hear you say it.”  Bilbo swallowed hard as his body trembled.

“You don’t understand…”  He began.

“Yes or no!”  The hobbit screamed.

“No.”  He sighed as his body slumped forward.  “No.  I do not want you to go.  But this is not about what either of us want.  There is real danger here, and not dragons or orcs, but betrayal from my own people.  This attack is personal, and those responsible will hurt you because they are trying to hurt me.  How could I go on if you were to die because of my selfishness?  No.  You must return to The Shire.  It is the only way I can keep you safe.”

“Thorin,” Bilbo said quietly.  “I will not leave you.  Not now, not ever.  I am with you, come what may.”

“And you say that dwarves are stubborn.”  He said tilting his head.

“Besides, if I were to leave, who would keep you safe?”  Bilbo smiled as he took his hand. 

“I am to marry Bona.  I can no longer avoid a betrothal.”  He felt his voice waver.

Bilbo said nothing as they sat on the stone floor together, still hand in hand.  “You are right.  This is no longer about what I want or what you want; it is about what is best for Erebor.  But I will be here, by your side.  It is where I belong.”  Bilbo lay his head against his arm.  He pulled the hobbit in closer and held him tightly.  Neither moved and neither spoke until the morning light peaked over The Lonely Mountain.  The breaking of a new day heralded the devastating reality that the cover of night tried to hide: there was a traitor in their midst and differentiating between friend and foe would prove more difficult than imagined.

 


	44. Chapter 44

**Thranduil**

A scream rang out in the night.  But this was no holler from a drunken man or the frustrated wail of a fisherman’s wife.  No, the voice that had carried into his tent and interrupting his dream-state was not one of lament or lust or cheer or spirits; this was a desperate cry coming from a voice much too high to belong to any resident of Dale.  One of his own was in trouble.  He threw back the gossamer covers on his gilded bed and reached for his long sword, ready to defend his subjects. 

He pulled back the closure of his tent, only to recoil in absolute horror at the sight that lay before him.  Fire.  The Elven Encampment was quickly succumbing to flames as the wind whipped the ash and embers together in a vicious dance that was both electrifying and horrific.  He watched helplessly as his elves ran frantically from their tents in scattered directions.  He could do nothing to stop the chaos that had manifested around him.

 _Run._   He thought.  _Just run._ Yet fear had left him frozen in place. 

A strong gust of wind carried the fire across the grass; scorching the earth before leaping onto the corner of his own tent.  His eyes grew wide as he watched the sturdy fabric turn scarlet in an instant.  Smoke filled the rapidly burning enclosure, obscuring his vision and burning his throat.  His sword slipped from his hand and fell to the ground with a thud, rendered completely useless against his old and fearsome foe.

The heat reached him finally and the memory of pain returned to him all at once.  _No!_ He turned around, only to find that he was surrounded as the flames climbed higher and higher still.   No sound reached his ears.  No comfort could be found.  All was lost to him.       

_At long last, you have come to claim me.  Goodbye Legolas, my dear son, how proud you made me.  Goodbye Bard, I should have told you everything.  I wish we had more time together._

He closed his eyes, hung his head and waited.

 

…….

 

Someone was calling his name in the distance.   

 _Elarinya?_  He was ready to surrender.  His life force was beginning to fade and he offered no resistance. 

Then he heard the voice call out to him once more.  This time, louder and with a more panicked tone.  He knew in an instant who was searching for him

 _Bard?_ Confusion filled him.  _You have come for me?_

“Thranduil!”  Bard screamed just outside the burning tent.  “Where are you?”  He sounded so scared, so desperate.  _You have come for me!_     

He opened his eyes.  His heart beat quickened, his body grew stronger.  “Bard.”  His voice, hoarse and sore, was just above a whisper.  “I am here.”  

The bargeman-turned-king burst through raging flames in spectacular fashion as he dove into the burning enclosure.  “Thranduil!  You are alright!”  Bard cried as he embraced him with relief.  “We need to get you to out of here.”

He sighed as he held Bard tightly.  “You should not be here!  Get to safety while you still can.”  He released him and took a step backwards.  “Leave me, save yourself.”

“I will not.  I am not leaving without you, so you can either come with me or we burn together.”  Bard said as he reached his hand towards him.

“The fire.  I…I am…”  He began to tell Bard that he was terrified by the flames; that he was nearly consumed by them once before, and that every night since then, fire haunted his dreams.

“I know.”  Bard’s eyes staring into his own.  “But I will keep you safe.  I promise.” 

He reached out and took Bard’s hand.  Together, they darted between burning tents and falling debris.  Carefully placed steps, running and dodging, ducking and turning as they ran.  They arrived at the edge of the encampment before realizing that the brush was also engulfed in flames, creating an impassable wall of fire before them.

“Back this way!”  Bard yelled to him as he gripped his hand tighter, leading him towards the river instead.

He heard no sound other than the beating of his heart as it thundered loudly in his ears. 

The river was just up ahead.  They were almost to safety despite the horror of the raging inferno all around them.  Once more, they were confronted by a burning wall of overgrown brush that was completely ablaze.

“Don’t give up now!”  Bard, sensing his despair, turned and yelled to him.

“You should not have come for me.”  Thranduil shielded his eyes from the fire.

Bard turned and his eyes softened.  “Nothing could have stopped me.  The river is just up ahead.  We can make it, but you need to trust me.  We need to jump.  Close your eyes and keep hold of my hand.  Are you ready?”

He said nothing as he laced his fingers between Bard’s and squeezed tightly.  He swallowed hard.  _Don’t let go._  

Together, they leapt through the flames and continued running until he felt the soft earth of the river bank beneath his feet. 

“Are you hurt?”  Bard asked as he quickly smothered a burning ember on hem of his gown.  

He shook his head no as he tried to calm his breathing.

“It’s over now.  You’re safe.”  Bard said soothingly.  “But we need to get back to the city.  The fields, they are also on fire.” 

“The new crops?”  He recoiled in confusion.  “Who would do this?”

“I do not know.  But my people…they need….they need protecting.”  Bard stuttered as he suddenly became unsteady on his feet.  He swayed for a moment, before nearly collapsing to the ground.

“Bard!”  He cried as he dashed forwards to catch him.  “What is wrong?”

Bard struggled to keep his eyes open as his limbs went numb.  “I can’t keep my eyes open…I am so tired.”  His eyes rolled back into his head and his body fell limp in his arms.  Quickly and effortlessly, Thranduil scooped the unconscious bargeman into his arms and ran towards the gates of Dale. 

“What has happened to the King?”  A man shouted.

“You!  Out of my way!”  Thranduil barked to the crowd of terrified residents.  _“Elves!  Rally to your King!”_ He commanded in Sindarian, the volume of his voice surprising even him.

“ _What is your will?”_ Hatharal called as he quickly ran towards him.

“Gather the elves to the fields.  Save as much of the crop as you can.”  Thranduil ordered.  “Find Gandalf and bring him with you.”

He kicked open a door and placed the unconscious king on the table.  He placed his hand atop Bard’s chest and listened to his labored breathing.  _Poison?_   _You had been poisoned and still you came to my aid!  All that running accelerated its affect on you._ “You cannot leave me now.”  He murmured.  “I’m going to save you.”

Silently, he sat down beside his dear friend and steadied himself for the task at hand.  He had not his herbs of healing, but his own magic was strong and powerful.  Vivid recollections of the last time he had used the healing spell flashed in his mind, but he knew then that he was too late to save her.  He would not allow Bard to fall to the same fate.

He closed his eyes and quietly began to speak the ancient incantations taught to him by his own father.  “ _May the blessing given to me pass from me to him.  Surrender your hold upon him and may he be released from death.”_ A soft glow enveloped him and emitted a gentle light that quickly filled the room.  His own enchantment began to fade, making visible his terrible scars as his healing spell rapidly took effect.  He repeated the words once more; feeling his own life force weaken while the glowing light grew in intensity, filling the room entirely; rivaling even the brilliance of the mid-day sun.  Bard’s eyes fluttered open and he knew that the danger had passed.

He hadn’t the strength to disguise himself.  He hadn’t the strength left to stand.  He felt himself falling and he hadn’t the strength to stop.  Gentle arms caught him and helped him up; guiding him along the corridors until he came to rest upon a soft bed.

“Rest here.  You are safe.”  Bard cooed as he brushed the hair from his face. 

“Do not look upon me.  I did not want for you to see me this way.”  He said wearily as he held his hand up against his face.

Bard carefully took his hand and drew it to his own cheek.  “I cannot understand why.  You are beautiful.”  Bard lightly kissed the tips of his fingers.  “So very beautiful.  But you must rest now and I will return as soon as I am able.  I need to save my city.”

“Bard…”  His voice breaking with fatigue.  “You were poisoned.  Someone here is false.  You must be careful.”

“That explains why I could not wake up.  It must have been the wine.”  Bard scratched at his head.  “But there will be time for that later.  Now, I need to get to the fields.”

“I sent my elves to help.  Hopefully they have extinguished the fire.  Please, do not go.”  He felt Bard’s fingers pulling away from his.    

“Shh, I will be alright.  I will be back.  I promise.  I will come back to you.”  Bard released his hand and wrapped a blanket around him.  His eyes began to close and as he drifted off to sleep, he felt a gentle kiss upon his forehead.  Tonight, he dreamed not of the inferno, but of hands, calloused and strong; of a voice, deep, powerful yet soft and gentle, and of eyes that contained both the green of the forest trees and brown of the earthen soil.    

 

**Tauriel**

Voices surrounded her.  So many voices and all of them crying out in fear and anguish.  She heard someone yell out “Why has this happened to us?” 

 _Why?_ She tried desperately to process the question, but she could not deny what she knew in her heart was the truth.  This happened because of her.   

The feeling of a hand closing tightly around her arm snapped her out of the daze.  “Come with me,” Dis said quietly.  “We must find Thorin and the others.  It is not safe out here in the open.”

She followed after Dis and re-entered the city; the smell of ash and smoke upset her stomach as she made her way towards Thorin’s private meeting room.  The room was eerily quiet. 

“The others will be along soon, no doubt.”  Dis said while she paced nervously; her voice echoing through the empty room.

“I’m sure they are on their way.”  She heard her voice saying back.

“My sons,” Dis began.  “They are brave, yet reckless.  What if…”  She paused, her voice catching in her throat.  “I mean, if something were to happen to Kili, I’m certain you would know, right?”

“What do you mean?”  She asked with confusion.

“Thorin told me that you two are connected.  At least, that is what that fancy elf told him.”  The dwarf woman’s eyes bore into her.

“I…I do not know.  I am certain he is alright.”  She felt her face begin to flush and she once again grew dizzy.

“I am sorry Tauriel.  I did not mean to upset you.  A mother does nothing but worry for her children.  There is no love quite like a mother’s love.”  Dis smiled weakly.  “You will understand that soon enough.”

The low rumble of voices out in the hall put both women on edge, and she silently drew her knife.  Dis nodded to her as she pulled a dagger from a hidden pocket in her dress.  Cautiously, they crept towards the door until Thorin’s distinct roar was heard.  She sighed in deep relief and hid away her weapon as the door opened and revealed The King and his heirs standing on the other side.

“Thank Mahal.”  Dis muttered under her breath as she gripped her brother’s shoulder tightly.

“Kili!”  She raced towards him and held him tightly to her, causing him to wince in pain.  She pulled back immediately and looked her husband over for any signs of injury.  Kili appeared half drown, yet unbloodied.

“Sorry love, I’ve had a rough night.”  Kili managed a half-hearted grin.

“Dain!”  She heard Dis call out as he approached alongside a very distraught Ionè, Nain and Grenda.

“We are all here and unharmed.”  Dain said as he brushed the ash from his tunic before wrapping an arm around his wife.

“There is much we need to discuss.”  Thorin growled as the remainder of The Company came into view.

She was still in a daze during the meeting, and could scarcely concentrate on what Thorin was suggesting.  _They all know that this happened because of my presence here._ She searched each face around the table; looking for signs of anger directed towards her.  From under the table, she felt Kili’s hand give hers a reassuring squeeze.  _I have put you in danger, my sweet love._   Her heart sank.  _I have put us in danger._  

They all stood as the meeting concluded.  She began to head for the door when Thorin pulled her aside.  “I heard you saved many lives tonight.  I thank you for all you’ve done.  But I must warm you to be careful.”  His deep voice shook through her body. “Please, keep a close eye on my nephew.  There are many who wish him harm simply because he…”  Thorin’s jaw tightened.

She stared at him, eyes wide as she fought for the right words to say to him.  “I am sorry.”  She said quietly.  “It is because of me.”

“No.”  Thorin shook his head.  “Hatred for Kili has existed since he was a lad.  I fear for him.”

 _Elf Prince._   She recalled.  _They called him Elf Prince._   Her fists clenched in anger.

“Just keep each other safe.”  Thorin’s tired eyes softened, and for the first time, she realized just how much he truly loved his nephews.

_I am so very sorry.  I should have known this was to happen._

Kili took her hand and together they made their way back to their chamber.  As the door closed behind them, the stale air lingering in the room felt stifling and she struggled to take a deep breath.  Still unsteady on her feet, she placed her hand against the wall to help keep her balance.  The cool rock was a welcome relief after braving the roar of fire.    

Kili, sensing her distress, protectively wrapped his arms around her.  For a moment, she felt safe.  “Amralime!  Are you alright?”  He held her close against him.

“I am fine, just tired that’s all.”  She said dismissively.

“You are always tired as of late.  Have you fallen ill?  Perhaps we need to summon Oin.”  Kili said with concern.

“You worry too much, my love.  Really, all is well.”  She smiled to him. 

“Tauriel, I know you well enough to know when something is wrong.  What is troubling you?  Please, tell me.”  Kili begged and she couldn’t stand to see him so unnerved.

“This is all my fault.”  She whispered as she rested her chin on his shoulder.  “My presence here has caused this rebellion.”

“How can you say such a thing?  No, my love, this is not your fault or mine of even Thorin’s.  There is something evil in this mountain that caused this: a curse that was set upon the treasure horde.  That is to blame.”  Kili said as he stroked her hair.    

“What are we going to do?”  She lamented.  “We are not safe here.  We are without food and winter is upon us.”

Kili kissed her neck.  “We will get through this together.  You and I.”  His eyes filled with the warmth of his love.

“But my sweet love, it will not be just you and I.”  Her voice started to break.

“Of course we have Fili and mum too but…”  Kili released her from his embrace.  “We will find a way, I promise.”

“You do not understand.  Kili, I am with child.”  She held her breath and pursed her lips as she waited for his reaction.  His eyes grew wide and he blinked in rapid succession.  “I am sorry, this is the worst time to tell you, but I cannot keep this from you any longer.  I have known since our wedding, but I wanted to make certain before I…”

“With child?”  Kili stammered and looked at her in disbelief.  “I am to be a father?”

She nodded silently. 

“Oh, Amralime!”  Kili reached for her; pulling her close against him.  She could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.

He scooped her up in one quick motion and placed her gently upon their bed.  Tears filled his eyes as he rested his head against her stomach.  He whispered softly in Khuzdul words she did not understand and he placed three kisses upon her belly.  “My love, this is wonderful news!”  He cupped her face in his hands and placed his forehead against hers.  He grinned uncontrollably with sheer joy, causing her to momentarily forget her worries.  “I love you.”  He whispered over and over again in between kisses.

“You are not worried?”  She asked as she drew her mouth from his.

“Not at all.”  Kili’s eyes aglow with excitement. 

“Things will not be easy for our child.”  She said aloud her fears. 

“He will have us, and Fili and mum and Thorin to protect him.”  Kili said as he brushed her hair from her cheek.  “He will be so very loved.”

“He?”  She scoffed skeptically.  “How could you possibly know that?”

“Ah my love, most dwarf babes are lads.”  Kili laughed.  “Ugly little things they are too!” 

“Well I am no dwarf!  Perhaps our little one will be a girl.”  She wrinkled her nose as she teased.

“She would be beautiful, like her mother.”  He ran his hand tenderly across her face. 

“Let us hope that our babe is not reckless like his father!”  She giggled and Kili pretended to be offended.

“Aye, let us hope.”  He relented and laughed heartily.  “I cannot believe it.  A wee babe!”  His eyes misted once more and she stroked her long fingers alongside his cheek.  They curled in towards each other and she touched her forehead to his.  She stared into his deep brown eyes and imagined what their child would look like.  She prayed the babe would have his father’s eyes.  “Kili, what did you say in Khuzdul?”  She lifted her head with curiosity.

“I gave thanks to Mahal for this blessing.  Nothing is more revered in dwarven culture than a woman who is with child.  I gave three kisses: one for protection, one for health and one for unconditional love.”  Kili said as he pulled her closer to him.

“Are you happy?”  She whispered as she nestled her head against his.

“I did not think it possible to be so happy.”  Kili placed his hand upon her stomach once more.

She set her hand atop his.  “We need to be very careful about who we tell.”

“Aye.  Surely we must tell Fili and mum first.”  He said excitedly.

“Of course, but I think that your mum already knows.”  She patted his hand.  “She just as much said so earlier tonight.”

“That does not surprise me.  Mum has this way of knowing things.  I mean, when Fee and I were lads, she always knew when we’d gotten into trouble.  Right when we came home, she’d be there at the door ready to scold us!”  Kili mimicked his mother’s voice.  “What did you do this time lads?  Go on, out with it!”  His impersonation made her burst out laughing.

“Is that going to be me someday?  Scolding our child for making mischief?”  She shook her head.

“Probably!”  Kili grinned.  “Poor mum had just about all she could take with me and Fee.”

“Then we will only have just the one then!”  She said as she playfully shoved him in the arm.

“Fili had better hurry up and marry Sigrid then.  Our babe needs someone to make mischief with.”  Kili winked.

She bolted up in bed.  “Is he going to marry her?” 

“He would be a fool if he doesn’t.  He loves her, you know.”  Kili smiled sheepishly.

“She loves him too.  What a happy marriage they would have, just like ours.  Do you think Thorin would allow it?”  Her shoulders fell at the idea of Thorin rejecting the proposal.

“No.”  Kili scoffed.  “He would never give consent and Fili would never ask.  Fee has always done exactly what is expected of him.  He is loyal to everyone else except his own heart.”

“How could Thorin deny his nephew?”  She said sadly.

“Because his nephew is heir to the throne.  Thorin has no sons of his own, and therefore, the burden falls to Fili.”  Kili sighed heavily and lay back on the bed.  “Do not worry, I have hope that things will work themselves out in his favor.”

“What makes you think that?”  She asked with her head propped up on her arm.

“I found a way to be with you, didn’t I?”  Kili lifted his eyebrow as he teased.

“You had to die in order to do so.  Or have you forgotten?”  She argued.

“What good is a reward without a little risk?”  He said cheekily.

“You are utterly reckless, you know that right?”  She rolled her eyes before a giggle escaped her lips.

“Aye.  But prepare yourself, my love; if our babe is anything like me, they’ll be no rest for you ever again!”  Kili laughed heartily.

“I get no rest as it is!  That is how I ended up with child.”  She laughed as she punched him in the shoulder.

“Are you really blaming me for your condition?”  Kili said with surprise.  “You’re the insatiable one.  If I remember correctly, you were the one who could not wait until our wedding night.”

“I suppose we’re both a bit reckless then.”  She shrugged.  “You know, I wouldn’t mind being a little reckless with you right now.”  She bit her lower lip in anticipation.

“See?  What did I just say?  Insatiable!”  He cried as he pulled off his tunic, throwing it careless on the floor. “Wife, will you ever have your fill of me?”  Kili pulled her on top of him and tucked her hair neatly behind her ear.

“Never.”  She whispered as she planted light kisses upon his lips.  “Now, my darling husband, help me out of this dress.”

  

 

 

      

 

 

 

 

 


	45. Chapter 45

**Bard**

They battled the blaze into the early morning light.  When it was over, the fledgling crops they’d planted alongside their hopes for the future were destroyed.  The scorched earth, black and charred, left nothing alive in its wake.  Dale was in trouble, and it would fall to him to devise a solution.

Weary from exhaustion, he rested his head against the door of his bed chamber before cautiously releasing the lever and pushing it open just enough to catch a glimpse of the figure that remained asleep in his bed.  His heart flew to his throat; the Elven King had not fled into the night, as he had feared, but continued to slumber in the same place where he laid his head.

Quietly, he entered the room and slowly pulled off his boots, one after the other and placed them on the floor. 

“You have returned.”  King Thranduil said without stirring.

“I promised you that I would.”  He groaned as he stretched his arms above his head in effort to relieve the tension in his back.  “And I always keep my promises.  I am surprised to see that you are still here though.”  He smiled warmly, unable to disguise his delight.

“Well, I could not very well leave without saying thank you.”  Thranduil opened his eyes as he spoke.

“For what?”  He said with confusion.

“For saving my life.  I would have perished in the fire had you not come to my aid.”  The Elven King said plainly.

He shrugged as he brushed his graying hair from his face.  “I couldn’t let you die.”  He stared into the vibrant blue eyes he’d come to know so well. 

Thranduil bowed his head lightly.  “The fields?”  The Elven King asked hesitantly.

“Gone.  And with it, the hopes of feeding my people this winter.”  He rubbed at the sore spot on his back once again.  “I honestly do not know what I am going to do.”  Unashamed, he pulled the singed tunic from his battered body and tossed it aside. 

“You needed worry about that, you know that I will help in any way I can.”  Thranduil’s deep voice sounded.  “What should concern you is finding who is responsible for poisoning you.”

The conversation turned serious and he rubbed at his temples.  “I do not remember much, outside of speaking to Lord Ecthelion about Sigrid, then you and finally Hatharal and Nremyn.”  He scratched at his burned shoulder.  “Wait,” he paused.  “There was the wine.  Alfrid gave me a goblet of wine and then I remember feeling tired.” 

“Who is this Alfrid?”  Thranduil’s jaw tensed as he sat upright in bed.  “Is this not the coward of a man who tried desperately to ingratiate himself to you.”

“Yes, that would be him.”  He shook his head in disbelief.  “But why would he poison me?  What could he possibly hope to gain?”

“I do not know, but I am certain he did not intend for you to survive.  That was a powerful poison, one meant to kill you in your sleep.”  Thranduil’s eyes flashed in anger.

“Damn fool couldn’t even get that right.”  He laughed in attempt to lighten the mood.

“He must be drawn on charges against the King and executed.  There can be no leniency here.”  Thranduil drew his hand through his long silver hair, and he couldn’t help by marvel at how it seemed to glitter in the light.    

“I’m not going to kill one of my own citizens.”  He sighed warily as he sat at the foot of the bed.  “Not without a trial at least.”  He lay back on the bed and reflexively closed his eyes.

“Someone orchestrated this attack; clearly the fires were set deliberately.”  Thranduil growled.

“I highly doubt Alfrid is the mastermind behind this.  You don’t think Lord Ecthelion is involved?”  His eyes snapped open at this thought.

“What would his motives be?”  Thranduil asked curiously.

“Perhaps to force the issue of marriage.  He asked for Sigrid’s hand as a means to build an alliance.”  He scooted back until his head found his pillow.

“If he is seeking an alliance, I doubt he would orchestrate an attack against you.  A marriage would make sense; you would do well to align yourself with the Steward of Gondor.”  Thranduil mused. 

“You think it’s a good idea to marry my daughter to that old man?”  He turned his head and offered Thranduil a frown.

“Why not?  You have another desirable marriage proposal to entertain?”  Thranduil said smugly.

“No.”  He said quickly.  “Not yet at least.”

“If you’re thinking of Thorin’s nephew than I must tell you that it will never happen.  That stubborn fool will die before he sees both his kin married to outsiders.”  The Elven King said plainly. 

He closed his eyes once more; he was much too tired to think.    Thranduil stood up from the bed and he reflexively reached for his hand.  “Where are you going?”  He asked softly.

“I seek an audience with this Alfrid.”  Thranduil growled as he said the man’s name.

“Do not go, not yet at least.”  His fingers wound around the elf’s gently.  “Please stay.”

“I do not understand why you continue to seek my company.  Not after seeing me…like that.”  Thranduil said quietly.

“The scars?”  He shook his head as he sat up.  “Look at me!”  He gestured to his chest and back.  You think I’m frightened by scars?  Thranduil, I want to know you.  I want the light and the darkness that you try so desperately to hide from me.  I am not afraid.”  He pleaded.   “Do you not know that I love you?” 

They stood in silence together. 

“I doubt you will feel the same after I tell you how I came by this hideous wound.”  Thranduil lowered his head and closed his eyes before he began to speak.

“Like you, Bard the Dragonslayer, I have also faced dragon fire.   Many, many years ago when I was young and foolish, I stood alongside my father and ten thousand elves to face the Great Serpents of the North.  In those early days, I believed myself to be invincible; above all other manner of creatures and that no living being posed any danger to me.”  Thranduil began.

“The dragons were unlike anything I had ever seen before, but what is a fire drake compared to the arrogance of youth?  I charged at one of the beasts, deaf to the cries of my father and blind to the terrible danger I had not only placed myself in, but many others as well.”  Thranduil shook his head sadly.

“The dragon screamed as my blade pierced its skin, and I believed myself to be victorious over the beast.  And then it happened; a terrible, searing pain overwhelmed me and then there was nothing but darkness.  I have no memory of what occurred after, but while the mind forgets, the flesh remembers.”  Thranduil was trembling. 

“Fire had nearly killed me.  For one hundred years, I was confined in bed, in constant agony.  I was tended to by the greatest healers in all of Middle Earth.  My father was always by my side.  But not even the healer’s magic could erase the devastation bestowed upon me.  Fire left me a monster; a hideous and terribly disfigured monster.  But that is not the worst part.”  Thranduil hung his head before slowly continuing.

“Countless elves died because of my reckless actions that day.  Those who tried to rescue me were engulfed in flames; dying horrible deaths on my behalf.  Because of my foolishness and arrogance, lives were lost.”

“When Smaug came for the treasure horde in Erebor, I rode to the mountain with ten thousand elves by my side.  Yet when the dwarves needed me the most, I could not confront the dragon.”  Thranduil finished hesitantly.  “Upon seeing the flames as they rose in the sky, a terrible fear gripped me, and my wounds once again filled me with agonizing pain.  I was afraid, too afraid to face the dragon.  My fear prevented me from intervening.  And my fear resulted in the loss of Erebor and Dale.”

“So now you know; I am a fool and a coward and a worse monster than the dragon that maimed me.”  Thranduil turned his head away, unable to look at him.  “Tauriel was right: there is no love in me, there is only fear.”

“You are no fool and you are certainly no coward.”  He tugged at Thranduil’s hand, pulling him onto the bed.  “Besides, that is not how others tell your story.  You are a hero to many; the one who charged in, risking your life to save others from the flames.”

“Hatharal gives a pretty account, but his version is far from the truth.  There was nothing heroic about me on that day, nor any day since.” 

“And none of this changes the way I feel for you.”  He cooed as his fingers gently brushed against the smooth skin of Thranduil’s cheek.  Tenderly and softly, he stroked his fingers along his face.  “If anything, I love you even more.”

“I am not worthy of your love.”  Thranduil whispered.

“You’re not worthy?”  He laughed.  “I am nothing more than a mortal man, one who is doomed to die.  My life is nothing more than a blink of an eye for you.  What could I possibly have to offer to you? ”

“You can offer me peace.”  Thranduil brushed at his graying hair.  “And the chance to be happy once again.”  Thranduil leaned his head in closer placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek.  “What could I offer you?”

“I’d settle for another kiss.”  Bard grinned sheepishly.

“As you wish, My King.”  Thranduil rested his forehead against his before planting soft kisses along his nose, then cheek before finding his waiting lips. 

Soon enough the sun would rise over the Lonely Mountain.  Soon enough he would have to face the terrible acts that occurred in the night.  But not in this moment.  In this moment he was free; free to laugh, free to feel joy and free to love.  Nothing else matter to him, for in that moment, he felt truly happy.  

…….

**The Departure**

The bitter wind whipped against Nain’s face as he stood on the threshold of the gates of Erebor and he shuddered against the cold.  The sun had not yet broken over the mountain, and the moon still shone large over the horizon.  His journey would be long and perilous, but it would be worth it to see his carefully laid plans come to fruition.  It had crossed his mind that Thorin would certainly send someone from The Company to keep a watchful eye, but he hadn’t anticipated the pair of brothers- rumored to be formidable warriors- to both be in attendance.

_Ridding myself of them will be no small task._

A side venture, he told himself, a parlay with the enemy of my enemy he considered silently as he continued to calculate in his mind.

“Bofur!  Bombur!  Make certain you do not stray too far from the path, and be mindful when you cross into orc territory.”  Thorin said as he clutched Bofur’s shoulder.  “Remember, your duty is to protect Dain Ironfoot’s nephew; guard him well.  Send a raven when you reach the dwarves of Moria.”

“We shall not fail you, my King.”  Bofur’s kindly eyes turned serious as he turned towards his brother.  Bombur clutched his axe to his chest and nodded.

“I know you must go, but I wish you were not.”  Grenda said sadly.  “A husband should not be parted from his wife so soon after their marriage.”

“I leave you in safe hands, my wife.  Do not fear for me, I will unite our families to rise against our enemy.  Be prepared for my return.”  Nain smirked.

“You carry with you the burden of us all, my dear husband.  You carry with you my love.”  Grenda whispered as she kissed his fingers lightly.

“Farewell my love.  Until we meet again.”  Nain held her close to him.  His new bride, the creature others had found so loathsome, had managed to endear herself to him in a way none had done before.  The feeling was not love, for he was much too hardened to ever feel such a useless emotion; but an understanding of the common struggles they both faced. 

“Come on now, while we still have the cover of night.”  Grundin, Grenda’s father, called to them. 

Before departing, Nain slipped a letter into Haladir’s hands.  “Make certain this reaches the Prince by morning light.”  The solemn dwarf gripped his arm tightly. 

The companions set off: together they were six, Nain, Grundin, Bofur, Bombur, Nyr and Bildr, destined for the home of the scattered dwarves of Moria and another, more sinister destination that not all of them would live to see.

 

**The Trial**

“Alfrid Lickspittle, you have been accused of crimes against his majesty, The King, including the attempt upon his life by means of poison.  How do you plea?”  Bard’s magistrate opened the trial.

“My…my King!  Please, I would never even think to do you harm.  How could you believe I could commit such a crime?”  Alfrid stuttered.

“Silence!”  Thranduil bellowed as he rose to his feet; an imposing figure made even more intimidating by his anger.  “How dare you speak to him?  How dare you lie?  I should take your head from your wretched body.” 

“It is alright,” Bard placed his hand on Thranduil’s arm.  “Alfrid, please explain why you delivered me a glass laced with poison.”

“But I didn’t know it was poisoned!”  Alfrid pleaded, his back hunched more so than usual.

“You can see how the evidence is against you.  Now, explain yourself.”  Bard said stoically.

“I retrieved the wine from the kitchen.  Why, anyone of the washer women could have slipped the poison into your goblet!  Or…or the wench who was pouring the wine; why sire, she is a despicable character if ever I saw one.”  Alfrid pointed his crooked finger at a lady in the crowd.  “Why there she is!  Guards, she is the one you should be questioning!”

“Alfrid,” Bard shook his head.  “Mrs. Longsweed has already given her testimony in this matter.  She says you were the one who opened a separate barrel of wine that was not among her supply.” 

“She said that?”  Alfrid licked his lips nervously.  “Well…maybe the wine was already poisoned in the barrel!”

“Why would you draw wine from an unopened barrel and deliver it to your king before tasting it yourself?”  Thranduil, attempting to remain composed, inquired.

“You see, um, King Thranduil, the wine was a gift for his majesty.  I would never be so bold as to sample the finery meant for my King.”  Alfrid attempted a smile.

“A gift you say?  Who received the gift?”  Bard asked the crowd.

“Forgive me, My King, but it was I who accounted all the gifts received.”  A frail voice called from the arena. 

“Come forward please.”  Bard motioned to his guards.

Out of the crowd stepped a thin, elderly man with gnarled fingers and tired eyes.  “My King, I accepted the barrels of wine the very morning of the coronation.  But I did not think to have them tested, as you see, they were from an ally.” 

Bard and Thranduil exchanged concerned glances.  “Where were they from?”  Thranduil’s head tilted slightly as he spoke.

“Why, they arrived with King Thorin from Erebor.  I thought if there was anyone we could trust, it’s the Dwarven King.”  The old man lowered his head.

“Thorin?”  Bard gasped, unable to believe what he was hearing.  “Thorin gave you this barrel?”

“Not himself, My King.  No, it arrived upon the wagon that was carrying all the other wine from Erebor.  This barrel was trimmed in gold and it had your name written upon a fancy card.  That is why I did not bring it to the galley with the others.  I told Alfrid about it when he asked why I was holding that one back.  I told him it was meant only for you.”  The elderly man dropped on his knees as he prepared for what he assumed would be his immediate death.

 “You informed Alfrid a _fter_ the wine had already been delivered?”  Bard drew his hand to his chin as he spoke.  The man nodded his head.

“You are certain no other hands touched the barrel until it was opened by Alfrid?”  Thranduil’s jaw tensed in anger.

“Alfrid did not open the barrel; I did.  The goblet in which I poured the wine was a clean glass I pulled from a kitchen shelf.  If anyone is to blame, it is I, My King.”  The man’s body shook with guilt and fear.

“Bring out the barrel in question.”  Bard called to his guards.  He turned to Thranduil and began a private conversation.  “The remaining wine must be examined for poison.  Perhaps the poison was administered after it was drawn.”

“And if the entire barrel is poisoned?  Then what?”  Thranduil raised an eyebrow.  “Are you to tell me that you would still consider Thorin an ally?”

“Why would Thorin want me dead?  None of it makes any sense.”  Bard argued.

“Can you not see that the greedy dwarf wants not only his homeland, but Dale as well?”  Thranduil sneered bitterly.

“Dwarves live underground.  What use would this city be to them?  I do not think Thorin would be as dubious as to attempt to poison me.  Would he not just have chopped off my head at the coronation when he presented the sword?”  Bard countered.  “Something is wrong.  None of this makes any sense.”

“We will soon know, for here comes the barrel in question.”  Thranduil stood slowly as the guards presented the barrel before him.  The Elven King elegantly dipped one of his long, slender fingers into the drink.  He drew his fingers to his lips, and knew in an instant what Bard had refused to believe.  “Poison is present.  The poison that nearly took your life came from Erebor.”

Bard’s face grew pale.  “But why?”

“No!”  Sigrid shouted from beside her father.  “I do not believe it.  The dwarves worked so hard to help us rebuild the city.  They are not our enemy!” 

“Child, perhaps the reason Thorin was so keen on rebuilding Dale was that he wanted it for himself.”  Thranduil whipped his head towards the crowd of people.  “They pretend to be allies, yet like the cowards they are, they attempt to murder a good man.  Sigrid, what if you or your brother had drank from the barrel?  What if your father had died?  Would you still feel the same then?” 

Bard could not bear to look at his daughter; he knew the hurt in her eyes would break him, and he could not afford to appear weak in such a tenuous moment.  He sighed deeply.  “The coronation, the poison and the fires all happening the same night is not coincidence.  This was a deliberate and calculated attack against Dale and against The Woodland Elves.  The evidence is pointing towards Erebor, but we do not know for certain that Thorin is behind this threat.  I believe the best course of action is to hold council with Thorin and hold him to trial.  I am very much so wanting to hear his explanation.  King Thranduil, I wish to speak with you in private.” 

The pair of Kings walked together until they found their way to the garden.  Bard collapsed onto the stone bench while Thranduil stood; his eyes transfixed on the looming mountain in the distance.

“If I accuse Thorin of trying to kill me, it is akin to declaring war.  We barely recovered from one battle, I am not certain my people can withstand another.”  Bard said wearily.

“They can and they will- for you.  There is no other option here, Bard.”  Thranduil’s voice softened as he sat down beside Bard.

“I do not think fighting is the answer.  What if he did not know about the wine?  What if I am leading my people to death over nothing?”  Bard tapped his fingers against the cool rock.

“He tried to kill you.”  Thranduil placed his hand atop Bard’s.  “You nearly lost you, _nin meleth,_ and I cannot allow that to go unpunished.”

“What would you have me do?”  Bard leaned his head against Thranduil’s shoulder, his fingers entwining with the elves’. 

“I would have you find me a sword.”  Thranduil gave Bard’s hand a squeeze.  “Or better still, two.”

 

**Kili**

He watched her chest rise and fall; studying the rhythm of her body as she slept beside him.  Since the first moment he laid his eyes upon her, he knew she would be the one he would love forever.  _Sleep, my love.  You need your rest._   He nuzzled his face against the back of her head, content in breathing in the intoxicating scent of her hair.   

_A child._ He thought to himself.  _My child._ Another thought lingered in him mind, the presence of danger once more loomed in his life; how could they be so foolish to bring a child into an unsafe world?  _What sort of life will this babe have?  Will Erebor be a safe place to raise our child?_ He closed his eyes and tried to remember what Bilbo’s home in The Shire looked like; the quaint little cottage nestled safely in rolling hills of green, the country air filled with the scent of Mallorn and wild flowers, pipe weed and stalks with growing vegetables swaying in the gentle breeze. 

The memory of that first meeting felt so far away; so far, far away from him and he struggled to recall the minuet details: the lace of Bilbo’s antique doilies, the stern expressions on the portraits that hung on the walls, the feel of the fragile dishes as they spun from his hand, the humming of dwarves as they stood beside an inviting hearth.  The hearth…the humming turns to a sweet lullaby sung by an impossibly high voice…red hair sitting in a rocking chair singing to a swaddled bundle…the soft glow of fire as it burns quietly in the hearth…he is standing beside her now…he reaches out his hand to touch her…something is wrong… the heat is growing …fire burning out of control…Bilbo’s home engulfed in flames…he is outside watching…someone trapped inside... she screams his name…a flash of red hair against red flame…Tauriel…Tauriel!

“Tauriel!”  He screamed as he sat upright in bed; covered in sweat, he looked around in confusion; an angry shiver sent his body into a spasm.

“Kili, what is it?”  Tauriel asked in a panicked voice.

“I was dreaming of The Shire, and suddenly everything was on fire and you, you were trapped inside with the baby.”  He blinked his eyes rapidly in effort to dispel the terrible image that continued to play out in his mind.

“It is alright now, it was just a dream my love.  See?”  She placed her long fingers against the burning of his cheeks as she straddled his lap.  “We are safe in our bed.”

“It felt so real.”  He shuddered once more before pulling her close to him, listening to the beating of her heart as his head rested upon her chest.  He calmed his breathing to match hers before he spoke again.  “I fear that we are not safe here in Erebor.  Until the traitor is discovered, you should stay outside the gates.”

“I am not leaving Erebor.  I am not leaving you.”  Tauriel said sternly.  “This is my home and you are my husband.”

“And you are with child, all the more reason to keep you protected.”  He attempted to reason.

“Kili, you are the one who needs protecting.”  She smiled warmly.  “Or have you forgotten that I have saved you from death on more than one occasion.”

He relaxed his shoulders and sighed loudly.  “Where would I be without you, my savior?”  He rested his head on her shoulder.  “I am afraid.  I’m afraid for you and for our child.  What would I do should something happen to you?  I have not felt fear like this before, and I do not know what path I must take in order to keep you from harm.”

“There is no place that is safe from harm.”  Tauriel whispered.

The thud of footsteps broke the silence, followed by a loud knock at the door.

“Kili, King Thorin needs you.”  Gloin’s voice called urgently from the other side of the door.

“Can it wait?”   He loudly replied.

“I’m sorry Kili, but it cannot.”  Concern rising in Gloin’s voice

 “Guard yourself well, my love.  I will return.”  He kissed Tauriel quickly before leaving.  “What is wrong?  Is Thorin alright?”  He noticed that Gloin was wearing his armor and carrying with him his war hammer.     

“I think you need to see for yourself.”  Gloin said.  “But first, you should be bringing your bow.  We may need it.”

 

**At The Gate**

Kili followed Gloin out onto the rampart that overlooked the Gates of Erebor; noticing the quickening of pace, he knew there was something dreadfully wrong.  Before he could form the words, a flash of light caught his eye and he looked to see a great many elves, dressed in armor, positioned before the Gates.

_This cannot be good._   Kili thought to himself as he walked towards King Thorin.

“Uncle, what brings the elves to our gates?”  Kili asked with trepidation.

“I imagine we will know soon enough.”  Thorin nodded to the enormous elk making its way through the throngs of armed elves.  Beside the graceful elk, a majestic white stallion proudly adorned in scarlet and gold, as was his rider.

“Oakenshield!  We have come to discuss your treasonous acts against the King of Dale.”  King Thranduil’s deep voice boomed.

“Treason?”  Thorin laughed harshly.  “What is it you have come to accuse me of?”

“You stand accused of an attempt on King Bard’s life by means of poison.”  King Thranduil’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Poison?”  Thorin spat bitterly.  “You believe I would poison you after all I have done for you Bard?”

“The evidence points only to you and yours here in Erebor.  How do you explain that the poisoned wine barrel arrived with your delivery?”  Bard, still hoping for a peaceful resolution, asked.  “We have reason to believe you burned our fields and King Thranduil’s encampment.”

“I am not going to defend myself against such baseless accusations.  If I wanted you dead, Bard, I would kill you with my sword.  Now, I must insist that you leave my gates.”  Thorin sneered.

“We will only yield when you surrender yourself and stand trial for your crimes.”  King Thranduil goaded as he placed his fingers along the hilt of his sword.

Thorin laughed once more.  “You wish me to surrender to your judgment?  You have no authority here and none over me.  Do not come here, insult me and expect anything but violence in return.”

“You will not be laughing when my elves breech your gates and drag you from your throne.”  King Thranduil smirked.

“It would take you a thousand years to breech these walls!”  Thorin roared in defiance.

“Have it your way then; should any of your filthy kind leave your foul city, they will be arrested and held prisoner until you answer for your attempt on Bard’s life.”  King Thranduil shouted back.

“Should any of my people be held captive, we will answer with our army at your gate.  You do not want your city reduced to rubble once more, do you?”  Thorin glared at Bard, who was uncertain of his next move.

“Thorin, can we not try speaking to Bard?  This is no doubt the work of those who destroyed our grain supply.  We must tell them that we also experienced an attack.”  Fili pleaded.

“I will never admit to outsiders that one of our own is false.  I will not have anyone questioning the word and loyalty of dwarves.  No, we can withstand any attack Bard and the elf bring against us.”  Thorin argued.

“We need them to be our allies in this.”  Fili desperately tried to reason with his uncle.

“Fili, if Bard believes that I tried to kill him, what can I say to convince him otherwise?  No.  We do not need that ungrateful man and his rabble of fishermen for anything.  If they choose to be our enemy, then they have chosen poorly.”  Thorin grumbled to a concerned Fili.

“Thorin, it does not have to come to this.”  Bard shook his head as he called up to the Dwarf King.

“You have made it so with your cowardly accusations.”  Thorin yelled in anger.  “Now, remove yourself from my gates before I remove you myself.”

“Very well then.”  Bard said sadly. 

“This is not over.”  King Thranduil called out, his silver hair shining in the late morning sun.  He signaled to his elves and swiftly turned his elk back towards Dale.

“No, it is not over.”  Thorin grit his teeth.  “Mahal watch over Nain, we will need support from Moria more than ever.”

 


	46. Chapter 46

**Sigrid**

_I don’t understand._ She walked quickly towards her private chambers, desperately battling back against the stinging of her eyes.  She could not cry, not now and certainly not here.  _I must get a letter to him.   I know this was not their doing._ She swallowed hard against the building lump in her throat and knew the tears would fall despite her efforts.  She was nearly at her room.  She was running now; willing herself to find the solitude she so desperately required.  She turned the corner and collided with an unexpected presence in her hallway.

“I am so sorry!”  She stammered.

“It is quite alright, my dear.”  The elder gentleman said warmly as he took her hand and helped her to her feet.

“Forgive me, I… was…”  She could no longer contain the emotions that were welling inside, hot tears began to fall and a sob choked the words in her throat.

“Princess!”  The man gasped.  “Are you hurt?” 

She shook her head no, as she feared if she opened her mouth, she would be unable to contain the sadness within.

“You there!”  He shouted to a washer woman at the far end of the hall.  “Get the Princess some water!”  He turned his attention back towards her, and he gently put his arm around her waist and led her towards her bedroom door.  “Here,” he said softly.  “Just sit for a moment and rest.”

The washer woman came running in, carrying with her a carafe of water.  “Here you are m’lord.  Is there anything I can do to help?

“Go and fetch her brother.”  He said and the woman departed quickly. 

She blushed as she remembered the gentleman’s name who sat before her: he was the Steward of Gondor’s son; the stately and proper man who she had met the day before.  She scarcely recognized him, as his stern expression had vanished, and there was nothing but worry and sympathy in his eyes. 

“Lord Ecthelion…”  She wiped away the tears that had been steadily streaming down her cheeks with her hands; noticing that she was trembling. 

He dashed over to her desk and pulled a blanket from the chair.  Dropping to his knees, he wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as he carefully took her hands into his.

“It is alright, my dear.  You have had a terrible shock, but you and your family are safe.  They cannot possibly harm you now.”  His voice was reassuring and calming. 

“I…I don’t understand.”  Her voice was just above a whisper.

“I know.”  Lord Ecthelion sighed.  “But thankfully your father is going to be just fine, and the crops can be replanted.  As for the dwarves, well, you cannot trust those treacherous creatures.  Do not worry though, they have failed in their attack and instead managed to solidify the alliance between our kingdoms.  Trust me, they won’t dare harm you, else they face the wrath of Gondor.”

“Sig!  What happened?”  Bain, sounding out of breath, appeared in her doorway.

“I believe the events of this past evening caught up to her.  Some rest will do her good, as will the company of her dutiful brother.  Will you watch over her?  I do not wish to give the illusion of impropriety, but I could very well not abandon her in her hour of need.”  Lord Ecthelion stood, his stern expression had returned and his tone became more formal.  “Dear girl, I had hoped to make clear my intentions for you, but I can see that you are in no state to entertain.  Please, get some rest and we will speak when you have recovered.”

She smiled weakly and nodded her head. 

“Thank you for caring for her.”  Bain smiled as the elder man squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.

“It is my duty.  My Princess, until we meet again.”  Lord Ecthelion bowed before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

“What happened?”  Bain shifted nervously from one foot to the other.

“Bain, everything is a mess.”  She cried, no longer worrying about holding back her emotions.

“It is, isn’t it?  Why do you think Thorin tried to kill Da?”  Bain said in disbelief.  “You don’t think Fili had something to do with it, do you?”

The mention of his name tore through her.  “I don’t believe it!  I mean, Fili would never hurt us.”

“It’s rather hard to argue when the poisoned wine came from Erebor.  If it’s not Thorin, then who?”  Bain reasoned.

“I don’t know.”  She shook her head.  “I wish I could see him again, I hope he is safe.”  Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“Fili?  That is who you’re worried about?”  Bain scoffed.  “Our father was nearly killed, our fields are destroyed and you’re worried about a dwarf!”

“Stop!  You do not understand.”  She looked down at the ground.

“You really believe me that stupid?  I see how you look at him.  I’ve heard rumors.”  Bain scowled as he scratched at his arm.

“What rumors?”  She snapped.  “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing.”  He said quickly.  “Come on Sig, it’s not like you’re going to marry him.  If he wanted to ask you, he would have already.”

She had no response to offer, no rebuttal to prove him wrong; no proposal of marriage had come from him.

Bain continued.  “Besides, you belong with your own kind.  I mean, you could be the wife to the Steward of Gondor!  Lord Ecthelion seems nice enough, and he’d be able to keep you safe, give you everything you could ever want.  And Fili, well, he…”

“Bain,” she looked up at him.  “I love him.”

“I know.”  She watched the expression on her brother’s face turn solemn.  “I know.”  He reached for her and held her in his arms; the same arms that once sought comfort from her during a thunderstorm, arms that wrapped around her in gratitude after she mended his toy; arms that no longer belonging to a boy, but to a man.  How he had grown over these past months.  How she had forgotten that he, too, was struggling with everything that had happened to them.

“I’m so sorry, my dear brother.  I haven’t been there for you.”  She said quietly.

“Shh,” he hugged her tightly.  “You’ve always been there to take care of me, now it’s my turn to look after you.” 

He helped her into bed and covered her with the blanket.  He placed a kiss on her forehead, the same as she would do when he was young, and he whispered goodnight.  She closed her eyes, allowing the quiet of sleep to wash over her.  She dreamed of days gone by, days filled with sweet kisses and strong, warm arms holding her close. 

 

**The Letter**

Bain waited until she had fallen asleep before quietly making his way back to his room.  He sank into his bed and prepared for some much needed rest, when something sitting on his desk caught his eye.  A simple folded piece of parchment stamped with markings he did not understand, but it didn’t matter, he knew at once who had sent it to him.

 

_My dear friend-_

_I pray this letter finds you well.  I heard that flames tore through your fields and destroyed your crops, such a terrible catastrophe to befall your new kingdom.  More than ever, you must be careful about whom you trust; there are many enemies who might disguise themselves as friends in these troubled times.  Something has changed in Erebor, and there are more secrets than ever and I fear what is to come._

_I am hastily departing the city at first light, as King Thorin ordered me to leave Erebor in order to rally the dwarves of Moria to our aid.  I am not sure as to why I was commanded to go or why we are in dire need of aid, but I will do as I am told.  I am disinclined at having to leave my new bride so soon after our wedding, but I imagine Thorin is using my marriage as leverage with the dwarves of Moria.  The reasons for this mission are unclear to me, as Thorin did not entrust me with the details.  Because I am traveling, it will be difficult for us to continue our communication.  I do have a friend inside Erebor, I believe you have met Hannir before, and he will securely send any messages to me._

_The next bit of news I am going to tell you is not pleasant, as you will not like what I have to say.  My friend, you asked me to find out what occurred between your sister and Prince Fili the night of Kili’s wedding.  I confronted Fili about his indiscretion, demanding an explanation for his actions, but he was evasive and tried to dismiss any wrong-doing on his part.  Please remember, dwarves are fiercely loyal creatures, but only when it comes to their own kind.  Many consider bedding a woman from a village of man to be a rite of passage; a means of experimenting before the commitment of marriage.  I am not saying that is what occurred; I am only trying to explain dwarven ways and how some view outsider women as objects of pleasure._

_Despite your sister being of the royal line, Fili will not do the honorable thing and marry her.  You see, as the crowned prince, he must take a dwarven wife in order to remain heir to the throne, and he will never relinquish his title. Regrettably, since the evening in question, Fili has begun the process of courtship and has been seen with a darrow from The Iron Hills.  I am certain it is only a matter of time before an engagement is announced._

_Dear friend, please forgive me for not intervening; it is an evening I shall regret all my life.  Should you wish to avenge your sister’s honor, I will not stand in your way._

_Do be careful, dear friend, as I am uncertain of the future and I fear for your safety._

_Fond regards-_

_Your faithful servant_

 

Bain set the letter down upon his table and silently clenched his fists.

 _Sigrid is nothing more than a toy to him_.  His heart beat wildly in his chest.  _He is using her.  She loves him and he is using her._

He paced the room, trying to calm himself down.  _What will Lord Ecthelion say if he knew?  He might rescind his offer of marriage_.  Bain tightened his jaw.  _He was her friend.  How could he betray her?_

He tore a piece of parchment and quickly scrawled a message.  _Fili will pay for what he has done._

…….

**Fili**

He looked down once more at the fragment of parchment in his hands and read over the words that seemed to have been written in haste:

_Meet me at the edge of the riverbank, where the moon casts the shadow of the Mountain, tomorrow when the night is darkest._

There was no signature, but he knew that she could not risk being exposed should this note find its way into another’s hands.  How she managed to get this to him, he did not know, nor did he care.  He longed to see her again, longed to explain that none of this was his or Thorin’s doing but truthfully, he longed to hold her once more.

He had been waiting all night for her to arrive, but he knew it would prove difficult for her to make an escape.  Patience had always been something that came easily to him; unlike his impetuous brother, he enjoyed the stillness of waiting and the calm it provided him.  But there was no calm for him tonight; the anticipation of seeing her face had caused him to pace nervously.  The sudden sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention. 

“Sigrid?”  He found himself speaking before her figure became visible. 

“You got my letter.”  A voice replied, but not the voice he had been expecting.

“Who goes there?”  He swiftly drew a dagger from his coat.

The hidden silhouette stepped into the glow of the moonlight, and to his surprise, young Bain stood before him.  He quickly sheathed his weapon.

“I have come to settle a score.”  Bain scowled, his face twisted as he spoke.

“Bain, I was not expecting to see you, but please allow me to explain that Thorin had nothing to do with the burning of your fields.  We also experienced an attack.”

“I don’t care about Thorin.  I am here for you, Fili.”  Bain growled as he drew a sword.

“I’m sorry, but I do not understand.”  He stepped back, unsure of what was to come.  “I’m not going to fight you.”

“You need to pay for what you did to my sister!”  Bain’s body was trembling in the darkness.  “You have dishonored her- dishonored my family.”  The young Prince charged at him, holding his sword awkwardly in front of him, swinging wildly.

“Bain, you know that I would never dishonor your sister!  Why would you think I would do such a thing?”  He asked while dodging Bain’s slashes.

“Everyone knows!”  The young Prince shouted.  “You lay with my sister!   She was pure and innocent before she met you!  Now, draw and fight me like a man.”

“What?”  He stood in stunned silence before slowly processing Bain’s accusation.  “I would never take your sister’s honor.  On my life, I would never harm her.”      

“It does not matter if you did or did not; there are terrible rumors that follow her now.”  Bain’s voice began to break.  “You have ruined her.  She trusted you, and you took advantage of her.”

“Are you talking about the night of Kili’s wedding?  Bain, I kissed her, but that was all.  Please, let me explain…”  He leapt out of the way, trying to avoid the lad’s wrath. 

“Do you plan on marrying her?”  Bain, tired from swinging a weapon much too large for him, panted.

His breath drew in.  His hands felt very heavy.  His eyelids fluttered.  _Marry her?_   His mind raced as he struggled to find an answer.   _There is nothing I want more, but my duty is to my people._ “It…it is not that simple.”

“No Fili, it is that simple.  Either wed her and restore her reputation or vow to leave her alone, so she is free to marry an honorable man; a man, like Lord Ecthelion, who has come from Gondor to court her in a respectable manner.  Unlike you, who stole away with her into the night, like the thief you are.”  Bain continued to stand his ground, holding his weapon up once more.

“I do not have a choice in the matter.”  He stuttered, forced to admit to what he knew in his heart to be the truth.  “There are expectations, things that are beyond my control.”

“You don’t have a choice?”  Bain sneered.  “Then why would you choose to seek out her company in secret?  Why would you kiss her if you had no intention of marriage?  Why would make her believe that you care for her when you don’t?”

“You think I don’t care for her?”  He shouted angrily.  “I love her!   I have loved her since that morning in Laketown and every day since!”  The words left his lips before he could process the implication; he drew his dagger in effort to defect a blow.

The young Prince stood silent for a moment, as if he were unprepared to hear such a bold declaration.  “If you loved her, then you would never have put her honor in jeopardy for your selfish reasons.  No, Fili, you don’t love her, you desire her and that is all.  When it comes down to it, you will slink away back to your mountain and wait for your time to rule as king.  Because that is what you truly love: gold, the crown and The Arkenstone!”    

“That is not true!  I would choose her no matter the consequence.  I would give up everything to be with her!”  He yelled as he threw his knife to the ground.

“Then do it!  Announce your intentions right here, right now.  Give me your word that you will marry my sister.”  Bain screamed.  “Give me your word, Fili!”

“I…I…”  He stuttered, willing himself to say the words; the words he had long desired to say aloud, words he had practiced in secret.  But they would not come.  “I cannot.”  His voice grew quiet, his shoulders hunched and his head bowed in utter defeat.

“I thought not.”  Bain scoffed.  “You will listen to me then: stop this cruel game you are playing, and never again contact my sister.  Leave my city and do not come back.  Next time I see you, I will kill you.”

Bain did not give him the opportunity to reply as he quickly turned his back and walked away into the night.  He lingered for a moment, angry not with the boy, but with himself.

 _Does he speak the truth?_ He pondered Bain’s harsh words as he slowly trudged home.  _Have I done her harm?_

He closed the door to his room and opened the chest at the foot of his bed.  He retrieved the box that held the precious diadem he had fashioned for her.  He stared into the deep red of the ruby that gleamed in the center of his precious creation.  _This jewel is meant for the one who will be my wife.  How could I have been so foolish to think she could ever wear this?_

He climbed the stairs until he reached the perch that overlooked the City of Dale.  Sadly, he looked out at the solitary lantern-her lantern that was still lit.  Its soft beacon of light that had brought him so much joy now seemed so cold and far away.  He clutched the diadem in his left hand, and in his right, his lantern; the companion to the one that shone inside of Dale.  He had made his decision.  He set the lantern on the rock ledge, for it would not be lit on this night, nor any other night.  _It was just a dream, nothing more._  

 


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your continued support! I am so sorry for not posting frequently, but I promise that I have not abandoned our pair of lovers!

**Chapter 47**

**Thorin**

“The rations are rapidly depleting, and now with three of our own in the family way, we are in dire need of food and supplies.  Thorin, how much longer can we remain prisoner here?”  Dis’s voice rang loudly in his ears, causing him to wince.

“We are not prisoners and I will sooner die before I stand trial for a crime I did not commit.  Least of all, lower myself before that foul elf.”  He spat defiantly on the ground.  “ _Entitled filth.  I should have killed him when I had the chance.”_ He growled in Khuzdul. 

“You know I’m not suggesting that you surrender yourself to anyone’s judgment.  I am saying that we can rally our army to take up arms and…”  Dis began before he interrupted.

“And do what, Sister?  Lead our own to slaughter?”  He shook his head.  “Thranduil commands thousands of elves, and they have been well fed this winter while we are slowly starving.  No, I cannot allow more dwarven blood to be spilled.”  He grumbled as he slumped in his chair.    

“Then what is to be done?  If you will not fight and your pride will not permit you to make amends with Bard, what is your solution?”  His sister’s eyes narrowed in frustration.

“We wait until we have word from Moria.  They will come.  We need to give Nain more time.”  He reasoned.  “The lad will come through.” 

“And what of his wife?  He must be told of her condition.  The fever has still not broken and grows weaker by the day.”  Dis said with a pleading tone. 

“Oin’s medicine has given her no relief?”  He asked with concern. 

“No.  Grenda has not taken well to pregnancy, and should we lose both her and the babe,” Dis shuddered.  “I do not think we can recover from such a loss.”

He lowered his head.  “I will sit with her again tonight.  In the morning, I will decide if it is necessary to call Nain home.  I have confidence that Bofur and Bombur can complete the task if needed.   Who is with her now?”

“Tauriel.  Dear girl has been trying to summon her elvish healing, but I’m afraid that left her after she made her choice to live as mortal.  She at least got Grenda to drink a tea brewed from King’s Foil.”  Dis wrung her hands together; the worry for the girl’s health etched upon her face.  “

“How is Tauriel?”  He asked in an attempt to brighten his sister’s spirits.

“That lass is hearty, despite being an elf maid.  She’s got a strong spirit that one.”  Dis beamed with pride.  “The babe has begun to move, and her belly has grown to accommodate.  The first movements are always thrilling, but after another month, they grow irksome.  I got no peace with Kili; damn babe moved from sun up to sun down.”

“He hasn’t stopped moving since.”  He laughed warmly, the first time he’d done so in weeks.

“Aye. “  Dis shook her head before cracking a smile.  “He’s probably the only one who has cause to be happy.” 

“I have it on good authority that Fili has been seen with Misanè on more than one occasion.  That must give you some measure of happiness.”  He patted the top of her hand as he spoke.

“I do not know Thorin, there is something different about him.  I fear my son is not himself.”  Dis bit at her nails; a trait he’d not seen her do since they were children.

“Sister, you fret too much!  Fili is bearing the burden of his people, something a good ruler must learn.  Once he is married, he will come around.  Let off the lad.”  He said sternly.

“You want to talk about marriage?  Are you truly going to propose marriage today, or are you going to find another excuse?”  Dis said coolly.

“Yes,” he grit his teeth.  “But you know how Bona is: she is a difficult as you.  Cut from the same cloth you both are.”

“Good.  You two will get along just fine then.”  Dis smirked before allowing another smile to break over her face.  “Although she has been known to use her fists more than her words at times.”

“If she blackens my eye, I’m blaming you.”  He smiled back.

The sharp knock at the door caused them to exchange glances. 

“That is my cue to give you leave.  Best wishes, my dear Brother.”  Dis pressed her forehead against his.  “And do be careful, Bona is quite skilled with a sword.”

Dis swung open the door and greeted her old friend warmly before disappearing down the hall, followed by her ever present guard, Dwalin.

“Presenting the Lady Bona of Moria, daughter of…”  Dori began.

“Ah Dori, there’s no need for formalities.  Everyone knows who I am.”  Bona grumbled as she pushed past Dori into the room.

“My lady,” he bowed respectfully.  “Would you care to sit down?”

“Thorin, we’ve been acquainted a great many years.  You know as well as I that I’m no proper lady.”  Bona rested her hands on her wide set hips.  “You can have out with why you summoned me here and save your pleasantries for someone else.”  Bona said impatiently.

“Very well.  Bona, I, um, as you know..” He stuttered.  “As you know, our situation is dire and we need to form a strong alliance with the other dwarven families.  I believe that a union between us would solidify that alliance.”

 “By my beard, are you asking me to marry you?”  Bona said plainly as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

“Yes, in fact I am.”  He cleared his throat before continuing.  “You would be the Queen of the largest and grandest dwarven kingdoms; revered and respected the world over.  You would have vast wealth and tremendous power and honor. ”

“My, Thorin, this be quite a proposal.  Queen of Erebor is indeed a tremendous honor. It’s a title, I dare say, every darrow dreams of when she is a bearn.  The gown, the spectacle and the fanfare will be unrivaled.”  Bona began.  “Not to mention being doted on night and day, dressed in lavish furs and jewels and playin’ hostess to countless dignitaries.  It’s a privilege that no darrow could refuse.”

“Good, we are in agreement then.”  He tugged at the sleeve of his jacket nervously.

 “But I’m afraid I must decline.”  Bona bristled.

“I…I’m sorry what?”  He asked as he took a step backwards, unprepared for her answer.

“No Thorin, I don’t want to marry you nor anyone else for that matter.”  Bona said with surety. 

He stood in stunned silence, waiting for her to either laugh in jest or storm off in haste.

“Don’t be too surprised.  I know full well that you don’t want to be marrying me either.  I assumed you’d be more inclined to wed the halfling that follows you everywhere.”  Bona said without hesitation.

“But why not? “  He finally mustered.  “You would be Queen.”

“I haven’t any desire to be Queen and I haven’t any desire to marry you.  I admire and respect you, for you are my King and you’ve done what many considered to be impossible by reclaiming Erebor.  Erebor is indeed as magnificent as the old tales, but I can only see a prison here, and should I become your wife, I’d never again be a-leavin’ these walls.  I would be tended to every moment of every day.  Followed around and fussed with.  No, I am not meant to be kept as a caged bird, singin’ for my supper.”

He felt an anger rising within him.  “We need this union.  If we are to survive the winter, we need the aid of your kin.”

“And you will have it.  Marriage or not, my kin will come when called to defend Erebor.”  Bona straightened her back as she spoke.  “Besides, my people know that I am not the marryin’ type.” 

“Bona, you are being unreasonable!  I cannot accept that you could flat out refuse such an offer.”  He yelled in defiance.

“Did you or did you not make a vow upon your brother’s death?”  Bona boldly yelled back.  “You vowed to take no wife and father no children, or have you forgotten that?”

“I am trying to do what is best for my people.”  He argued, half stunned she would dare speak to him in this manner.

“No.  No Thorin, you are trying to do what is easy.  A marriage to a good family because it’s what‘s expected of you?  An alliance out of fear and mistrust?  That is taking the easy way out.  And you certainly do not strike me as the kind of dwarf who would choose the easy way out.”

“Can you not see that our people are starving?  That we have been betrayed by one of our own?”  He shook his head defiantly.

“I see that.  But I also see before me the one who is called Thorin Oakenshield, or have you forgotten who you are?  The Thorin Oakenshield I know would never go back on a vow simply because it is the path of least resistance.”  Bona gripped his arm tightly.  “There are other ways of dealin’ with this issue, and you underestimate the strength and hardiness of dwarves.  We will survive this long winter, and we’ll be uncovering the traitor in time.”

“Your refusal will not go over well with Dain’s kin.  They will see it as an act of defiance.”  He attempted to reason.

“You know damn well those pampered dwarves will do whatever Dain tells ‘em to.  If they do not like it, then they can go home.”  Bona pushed back.

“And what of my sister?  Dis is not going to happy about this.”  He rubbed his thick fingers along the sides of his temples, feeling a pain stirring in his head. 

“Aye.  She surely won’t.  But who are we to be taking marital advice from her?”  She winked and he couldn’t help but smile remembering all the trouble his sister had put him through. “Besides, I believe she is still sore that you didn’t bring her along with you on the quest.”

“She’s angry about that?”  He asked bewilderedly.

“She’s not the only one.”  Her arms folded across her chest.

“It was safer to keep you both at home.  I couldn’t very well put two darrows in harm’s way.”  He said with confidence.  “Least of all my own sister.”

“Oh, so instead you took her two lads, both of them young and inexperienced in every way possible on a risky quest that could have killed them both.”  Bona quipped as she rolled her eyes. 

“I do not need to explain my decisions to anyone.”  He snapped back.

“Did you not believe she would survive the journey?  Or that she would be some maid in need of constant rescuing?”  Bona smirked, her eyes fixed on his.

“Of course not.  Dis knows how to handle herself and is her own defender.”  He sneered, unflinchingly holding her gaze.

“Yes.  Dis is a mighty fighter, and you might know that if you allowed her to do more around here than just play dress up and nursemaid.  I’d wager there’s more than a few of us darrows who’d be good in a fight.”  Bona grinned as she revealed her intentions.  “We can fight, and once my kin arrive, we will fight for you.  Let us stop pretending to be a bunch of fussy and proper elves!  We dwarves don’t settle disagreements with wine and conversation; we settle it with fists and knives!”

He considered her words.  “You think I’ve that I’ve forgotten myself?”  He said finally.

“Yes, Thorin, I do.  You don’t need marriages or alliances, not with what you already have surrounding you.”  She said quietly.

“And what is that?”  He asked eagerly.

“Loyalty.  Honor.  And willing hearts.” Bona smiled as she took his hands into hers.  “What more could you ask for?”        

 _What more indeed?_ He thought to himself.  _What more indeed?_


	48. Chapter 48

**Letters**

_My esteemed Lord Nain-_

_I hope this letter finds you well.  There have been several development in your absence, the biggest being a rumor pertaining to Prince Fili’s intention to wed Lady Misane_ _̀.   What might come as a surprise is King Thorin’s declaration that he will not marry, and when the time comes, he will abdicate the throne to his successor.  His refusal to align with Moria will surely be a decision he will come to regret._

_As it happens, your Uncle’s wife is now with child and her belly grows rounder by the day.  Dain seems to be the only one of us in good spirits, for there is much misery here in Erebor._

_We are suffering as food rations have been dwindling, and hunger is a daily reality for many, including my own family.  There is hope: Thorin is preparing to declare war against the City of Dale for keeping us under siege.  The forges have been running constantly, no longer producing gold, but iron weapons in surplus.  Many of the Mirkwood elves left after the fire, but there is rumor that their King remains in the company of Bard.  No doubt Thranduil’s elves will come to his aid when we attack Dale, but they will certainly arrive to battle much too late._

_However my Lord, there is more, and I am afraid this note does not bring good tidings.  Nain, your wife is with child, but there are complications.  She has been confined to bed and is receiving constant care for her condition, yet the sickness has not relented and in the months since your departure, she has become quite frail and weak._

_The best healers in the City have been tending to her, but even they have been unable to offer her any comfort.  I am terribly sorry to deliver such grave news, but please know that your dear wife is being cared for night and day by the Royal Family; even Thorin himself sits beside her bedside.  We are all doing whatever we can to heal her, but the sickness has been unrelenting._

_Thorin requested this letter be sent in effort to recall you home, so you may be with your wife and family should the worst come to pass.  I am terribly sorry to deliver such dreadful news. We await your arrival._

_Your loyal servant-_

_Hannir_

Nain’s jaw clenched as he read the letter over once more before crumbling it in the palm of his hand.

“My Lord, I am sorry to hear such terrible news.”  Nry said quietly as he wrung his hands together.

“No one would fault you for returning to your wife.  Nothing has been done that cannot be undone, should you choose to abandon your plan.”  Bildr looked cautiously towards Nyr.

“You believe I should give up on taking Erebor because my wife is ill?”  Nain tugged at his beard.  “Only a fool without conviction would abandon his purpose.  Her death will give the dwarves of Moria all the more reason to rally to my cause.”

“How is that, My Lord?”  Bildr, horrified by Nain’s words, asked.

“Simple, Grenda’s death is a tragedy due to Thorin’s inability to provide for his people.  He is more concerned with the lives of his pet hobbit and the she-elf than his own kind.  Poor Grenda and her babe might have survived if only The King had given her the best care possible.”  Nain clenched his fist as he spoke.  “No loss is greater than a darrow with child.  This will work to our advantage.”

“You wife’s death is an advantage?”  Bildr shook his head, unable to hide his disgust.

“Come now!  Do not be so grieved.  I only married her to gain favor, and she is playing her part perfectly.  I certainly do not wish her dead, as she is carrying my heir, but abandoning our plan so I can run home and play the devoted husband would be a disservice to her.  No, I will honor her by taking the crown of Erebor in her memory.”  Nain reasoned.  “Besides Bildr, should Grenda die, I would be in need of a good and hearty woman to bear me heirs and your daughter is almost of courting age.  She could be Queen of Erebor!”

“You would make my Lindi the Queen?”  Bildr stood stunned.  “That…that is such an honor.”

“I would indeed, my dear friend.”  Nain grinned before clutching Nyr’s shoulder.  “For your loyalty to me, you will also be handsomely rewarded too.  Nyr, for you, I would arrange a marriage to any woman you want.  You would serve on my council, as would you Bildr.  All the power and influence you could ever desire would be yours.  Not to mention your share of the riches.  Imagine a room filled with gold; gold enough for generations to live in wealth.”  Nain offered with a smile.

“My Lord is very generous.”  Nyr grinned as he extended his hand.  “I accept your offer.”

“As do I.”  Bildr finally agreed.  “But what are we to tell Grundin?  Surely news of his daughter’s ill health will reach him eventually.”

“That is why we must continue towards our kin from Moria; to retrieve food, medicine and other badly needed supplies.  We must not fail, as Grenda’s life hangs in the balance.”  Nain laughed. 

“Good.  What am I to tell him once you depart for the…”  Nyr began but was quickly interrupted by Nain.

“Shh, someone approaches.”  Nain gestured to his companions.

“Allo lads.  Bombur has managed to make a stew from those mushrooms we gathered.  It’s not much, but it will have to do.”  Bofur smiled heartily.  “Suppose we’d better get it while it lasts; you know Bombur’s appetite.”

“Thank you.  I imagine we could all use some hot food right now.”  Nain’s voice was pleasant.  “Come on, best do as he says.”  

The trio followed behind Bofur, who was attempting to regale them with a story from his time on the road.  “Then we all had a swim in Elrond’s fountain.  I can still picture that poor elf’s face as he got a look at my balls!  Ha!  I tell you, that’s an image I will remember all the days.”

“My Lord,” Bildr whispered.  “What are we going to do about the idiot and his fat brother?  He scarcely lets you from his sight.”

“Do not worry.  By morning, we won’t have to worry about them anymore.”  Nain steeled his eyes at Bofur as they walked. 

Nain sat in quiet contemplation as the stars slowly filled the sky.  Hannir’s letter still on his mind, and its contents caused him greater pain than he lead the others to believe.  _Grenda is with child, but there are complications._ He hadn’t considered she would find herself with child so soon after their wedding, and the thought of losing her made his heart ache.  She was no great beauty, but he felt a kinship with her that was most unexpected.  He prayed silently that she would survive this ordeal. 

“The fire is dying, and we could use more dry wood.”  Nain began.  “Perhaps we should spend the last few moments of daylight searching for tinder.”

“Aye, we should keep the fire going through this long, cold night.”  Bildr agreed as he stood up.

“Fair enough,” Bofur concurred as he attempted to help his brother off the ground.  “Nain, you’re with us.  And use caution lads, this side of the mountain can be unforgiving; one wrong step and you will fall to certain death.  Don’t stray too far from the path.”

Wordless, they searched through the snow covered forest floor for anything suitable to be burned.  The darkness soon covered them until only the silhouettes of the trees, swaying silently in the wind, was visible.

“Bombur, you find anything?”  Bofur called out to the figure in the distance.  The sound of crumpling snow behind him caught his attention, and as he turned around to see if Nain was approaching, a sharp pain in his back caused him to lose his balance. 

“Ambush!”  Bofur screamed as the assailant came at him once more.  This time, he rolled out of the way and drew his knife as he quickly jumped to his feet.  The attacker took a step backwards before lunging towards the injured dwarf, this time slicing him in the arm.  Blood droplets stained the snow as Bofur staggered towards a tree for support.   He jutted his own knife at the hidden figure, striking flesh and the assailant cried out in pain.

“Nyr?” Bofur coughed.  “You’re the traitor?”  He stuttered bewilderedly.

“You betrayed your own kind when you sided with that elf-lover.”  Nyr spat angrily as he slashed at Bofur, yet was blocked by the nimble dwarf.  “Tonight will be your last.”

“I donnot think so.”  Bofur said as he thrust his knife once again, yet stopped dead when he heard a cry coming from the darkness; a cry of pain belonging to his kin.  “Bombur!”  He screamed.  Nry took quick advantage of the distraction and sank his weapon into Bofur’s soft flesh.  “Now die.”  Nry snapped as he kicked the wounded dwarf in the injured side, sending him tumbling down the steep embankment until he came to rest in a patch of overgrown brush, a trail of blood stained the fresh, white snow.  Bofur lie still, so very still.

“Come Bildr!  Find Nain so we can be on our way.”  Nry called out into the dark forest.  “There is much to be done.”

The forest was quiet.  Bofur focused on the sound of the wind as he fought to stay awake.  Just then, another sound echoed in his ears; the sound of footsteps…footsteps in the snow…footsteps coming towards him…then everything went black.

**Sigrid**

She swallowed hard against the tears that began forming.  She blinked in rapid succession, and turned her head away from the desk where his letter lay.

_My dearest Sigrid-_

_I am overjoyed that you have accepted my proposal and eagerly anticipate your arrival.  Preparations are currently underway for our wedding.  Although I wish you had traveled back with me and my caravan, I know that King Thranduil’s guards will keep you safe on your long and perilous journey._

_While I know our union is more of an arrangement out of necessity, I believe that you will find true happiness here and come to love Gondor as I do; from The Gates of  Argonath to the White Cliffs of Minas Tirith, you’ve never before seen such beauty and majesty.  I cannot wait to share them with you._

_Fond Regards-_

_Lord Ecthelion, Son of Turgon, Ruling Steward of Gondor_   

She drew in a deep breath.  This was it, plans were now final and there was no going back.  Tomorrow, she would leave behind her family, her home and, despite herself, her heart.  _I will not get to say goodbye.  I am leaving forever and I cannot say goodbye._   Tears slipped delicately from her eyes and she tried her best to stifle them.  Reaching for a loose slip of parchment on her desk, she quickly scrawled a letter.  She needed to work quickly before she lost her nerve.

“Could you please summon Nremyn.  I have one last task for him.”  She said to one of her attendants.

 She closed the door behind her and clutched the letter to her chest.  Before long, there was a swift knock at the door.

“You called, my lady?”  Nremyn smiled warmly.

“Yes, my friend, I need you to get this letter inside Erebor.  It’s…it is important.”  Her voice breaking.

“Of course.”  Nremyn bowed his head.  “Sigrid,” he said hesitantly.  “Are you certain that you want to marry this Steward’s son?”

She paused, wanting to cry out all the pain she had buried inside of her, wanting to scream that this was not what she wanted; that what she wanted was nothing more than an impossible dream that would never come to pass.  But this marriage was the steady, dutiful and responsible choice for her people.  Instead, she silently nodded; unable to allow a word to escape her lips.

Nremyn reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “I shall remember you all the days of my life.”

She closed the door behind him; unable to watch him walk away.  In the peace of her private chambers, she finally allowed the tears to come.  There was one last matter for her to finish before she left the city, but that would have to wait until nightfall.

 

**Fili**

He read the letter over once more, in disbelief.

_Dear Tauriel-_

_I am leaving for Gondor at first light to marry Lord Ecthelion.  I shall always value our friendship.  This is goodbye.  Please give Fili my best._

_With love-_

_Sigrid_

She is leaving.  She is leaving to get married.  She is leaving me. 

His shoulders slumped as his head lowered.  _Let her go._   He thought.  _She should be with her own kind, with someone who can protect her.  Someone honorable who will give her a good life and a family…_   His heart sank at that thought.

Yet one thought remained.  _But, I love her._

He leaned his head against the wall and sighed.  _This is for the best.  This is how it must be.  A life with her could never be._ He stood up and attempted to busy himself with the cleaning of his knives.  _She and I could never have been…Thorin and my kin are relying on me to be steady, dutiful and responsible.  How could I hurt those I care for?_   His knife slipped and made a small cut.  He watched as the deep crimson of the blood trickled down his finger and pooled in the center of his hand; appearing to scintillate in the firelight of the room.  _The Bloodline of Durin._   He stood to find a cloth to clean his hand, when he noticed something he’d almost forgotten sitting on a shelf in the corner: a small silk parcel containing a most precious gift. 

He cleaned his hand before retrieving treasure.  He carefully unwrapped the silk and in his hand, he clutched the pure white pearl Lady Galadriel had given him so many months before.  _Please, I need your wisdom.  What am I to do?_ He closed his eyes and allowed her words to echo in his ears: _“Trust your heart, Fili, Son of Vili, and it will never lead you astray.”_

“How am I to trust my heart when it is pulling me in an impossible direction?  Being with her is impossible, there can be no future for us, no scenario where we could be together.”  He reasoned aloud.

_But I love her…_

“Love is not enough,” he argued with himself.  “Love cannot pacify Thorin’s rage or Mother’s disappointment.  Love cannot heal the anger of my people.  Love cannot fix the divide between Erebor and Dale.  It is impossible.”

“Marrying Misane is the right choice- the only choice.  Everyone approves of our union and that would only strengthen our city and align all dwarves to our cause.  There is no other option.  I have no choice.” 

_I must let her go._ He stood slowly, and knelt beside the large trunk at the foot of his bed.  He reached in and removed a wooden box; inside was the golden diadem he had made for her, the one she could never wear.  Now certain, the one she would never wear for it contained his jewel, and it was meant only for the one who would be his wife. 

“Time to do what is right.”  He whispered.  He looked at the pearl and then at the diadem.  _But what is right does not feel right.  You told me to trust my heart, but how can I?_

He closed his eyes.  “What should I do?  If I turned my back on my people, I will never be forgiven.  I will lose everything.”  He muttered.  _If I let her leave, I shall regret it always._     

He stood up and straightened his back.  Tonight, his life would change.  _This will not be easy,_ he thought.  _But I know what I need to do.  Please Lady Galadriel, give me courage and strength, for I shall certainly need them._

 


End file.
